Stack 

Annex 

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42U 

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THE  LIBRARY^ 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


LITTLZ  BOOKS  ON  RKLIOIOIT. 

EDITED  BY  W.  ROBERTSON  NiooUL 


THE   UPPER  ROOM 


TTflC 

UPPER    ROOM 


JOHN   WATSON 
(IAN  MACLAREN) 

»r  of 'Beside  tkt  Bennit  Britr 
Tkt  D*ys  of  A uU  Lattf  Synt,'  tic 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1895,  by 
JOHN    WATSON. 

All  rights  reserved, 


STACK  ANNEX 

BT 


W3 


TO  A.  B. 

A 

FAITHFUL  FRIEND 


2039155 


CONTENTS 

MM 
THE  GOODMAN  or  THE  HOUSB 3 

THE  GUEST-CHAMBER  OF  THE  SOUL.  .  a$ 

THE  TWELVE 43 

THE  SHADOW  or  THE  CROSS 6j 

A  LAST  WISH Si 

THE  BEQUEST  OF  JESUS 97 

THE  LORD'S  TRYSTE iif 


THE    GOODMAN    OF    THE 
HOUSE 


Behold,  when  ye  are  entered  into  the 
city,  there  shall  a  man  meet  you,  bearing 
a  pitcher  of  water  :  follow  him  into  the 
house  where  he  entereth  in. 

And  ye  shall  say  unto  the  goodman  of 
the  house 

Hush,  I  pray  you  ! 

What  if  this  friend  happen  to  be — God. 

— BfcOWHIKO. 


THE  GOODMAN    OF    THE 
HOUSE 

WHEN  some  one's  biography  is 
written  who  has  wrought  great 
deeds  and  has  filled  the  eye  of 
the  world,  various  discoveries 
are  made,  and  not  the  least  inter- 
esting has  often  been  the  number 
of  his  private  friends  and  the 
closeness  of  their  intimacy.  Peo- 
ple had  supposed  that  they  could 
have  mentioned  every  person 
whom  he  trusted  and  who  influ- 
enced him,  because  they  could 
run  over  the  names  joined  with 
his  in  public  affairs  and  heard 
from  his  lips.  It  is  forgotten 
that  this  is  only  to  know  the  staff 
that  ride  by  a  general's  side  and 
carry  his  orders  on  the  battle- 
field— the  official  colleagues  in  a 


THB   GOODMAN 


high  enterprise.  The  multitude 
are  not  aware  that  this  man  es- 
capes as  otten  as  may  be  possible 
trom  the  glare  of  public  life,  and 
hides  himself  in  some  country 
house  where  the  scent  of  roses 
floats  in  through  the  open  win- 
dows, and  manners  have  a  gen- 
tle simplicity.  Some  tribute  will 
be  found  among  the  great  man's 
papers  to  an  obscure  friend  ; 
but  no  one  will  ever  know  what 
passed  between  those  two  when 
they  sat  in  some  quiet  garden  at 
set  of  sun,  for  neither  ever  told  ; 
or  read  the  letters  they  wrote 
one  to  the  other,  for  they  are  de- 
stroyed. Had  you  spoken  with 
the  hero's  friend,  he  had  never 
boasted  or  let  you  understand 
his  honour.  No  friendship  has 
such  a  charm  as  that  into  which 
the  world  cannot  intrude,  which 
comes  afterwards  on  the  world 
as  a  surprise. 


OF   THE   HOUSE  5 

Jesus  had  His  public  company 
of  friends — the  twelve  whom  He 
had  selected  and  called  to  office 
as  a  minister  forms  his  cabinet, 
as  a  commander  appoints  his 
generals.  With  them  He  trav- 
elled through  Galilee,  with  them 
He  appeared  in  Jerusalem.  He 
instructed  them  in  the  mysteries 
of  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  He 
gave  them  directions  for  its  con- 
duct. They  were  to  be  the  first 
exemplars  of  the  Christian  faith 
and  the  pioneers  of  the  Christian 
enterprise.  Some  of  these  might 
be  more  congenial  to  Jesus  than 
others — one  was  His  intimate  ; 
but  He  called  them  all  friends. 
The  twelve  will  ever  be  associ- 
ated with  Jesus  ;  they  are  the 
college  of  the  Apostles,  the  mis- 
sionaries ot  the  Cross.  But  as 
one  reads  the  Gospels,  other 
persons  emerge  nke  pictures 
from  the  shadow  in  a  gallery, 


THE   GOODMAN 


like  unaddressed  letters  in  a  biog- 
raphy, like  initials  in  a  diary. 
They  are  persons  of  whom  we 
only  get  glimpses,  or  whose  ac- 
quaintance with  Jesus  is  barely 
mentioned.  There  is  Nicode- 
mus,  who  visited  Jesus  by  night 
— to  the  astonishment  of  St.  John 
— but  who  was  soon  afterwards 
Jesus' friend.  Joseph  of  Arima- 
thea  is  another  of  whose  inter- 
course with  the  Master  we  know 
nothing,  but  who  was  so  devoted 
to  Jesus  that  when  Apostolic 
hearts  had  failed  he  gave  Jesus 
a  tomb  in  his  own  garden.  Mar- 
tha and  Mary  have  received 
more  notice ;  but  one  has  to 
read  the  references  with  imagi- 
nation to  realise  how  Jesus,  amid 
His  labours  and  trials,  depended 
on  those  pious  women  for  rest 
and  hospitality  And  then  there 
is  this  unknown,  whom  we  can 
only  call  '  the  g-oodman  of  the 


OF  THE  HOUSI 


house,'  who  rivalled  Joseph  of 
Arimathea  in  the  offices  of  friend- 
ship ;  for  if  the  one  received 
Jesus  to  his  most  sacred  place 
after  the  Passover  was  complete, 
the  other  afforded  Him  his 
choicest  room  wherein  to  keep 
the  feast. 

The  Gospels  do  not  contain  a 
more  winsome  idyll  than  the 
story  of  the  upper  room.  How 
Jesus  came  up  to  Jerusalem  with 
the  multitude  to  keep  the  feast, 
knowing  that  He  Himself  should 
be  the  Passover  Lamb.  How 
He  was  suspected,  slandered, 
maligned,  harassed  all  the  holy 
week.  How,  while  the  poorest 
of  the  people  had  a  room  of  some 
kind  in  which  they  could  cele- 
brate the  great  deliverance,  He, 
of  whom  it  all  spoke,  had  no 
rool  above  His  head.  How  He 
was  not  concerned  or  dismayed, 
but  gave  directions  to  His  dis- 


THE   GOODMAN 


ciples  as  if  every  house  in  Jeru- 
salem were  open  to  Him.  How 
He  spake  as  if  there  were  an  un- 
derstanding between  Him  and 
some  secret  acquaintance  they 
did  not  know.  How  two  of  the 
disciples  went  full  of  curiosity 
to  a  public  fountain  and  looked 
for  a  man  carrying  a  pitcher  of 
water.  How  he  gave  no  sign 
at  seeing  them,  but  immediately 
arose  and  went  his  way.  How 
they  followed  without  hesitation 
till  he  came  to  a  certain  house 
and  turned  to  face  them  at  the 
door.  How  they  asked  the 
question  that  Jesus  gave  them, 
and  were  taken  at  once  to  a 
room  prepared  for  the  purpose. 
How  they  departed  and  returned 
to  Jesus  much  wondering.  The 
secret  communication  between 
the  goodman  of  the  house  and 
the  Master,  the  appointed  ren- 
dezvous in  a  place  where  people 


OF  THE   HOUSE 


vrere  coming  and  going,  the 
carefully  chosen  password,  the 
loyal  devotion  of  an  unreckoned 
disciple,  are  a  romance,  such  as 
we  mostly  read  of  in  ancient 
days,  when  Royalists  declared 
by  stealth  their  devotion  to  some 
hidden  and  disguised  monarch. 

One  may  be  sure  that  behind 
this  simple  mystery — the  neces- 
sity of  evil  days — lay  a  better 
romance  of  friendship.  One  day 
this  man,  a  wealthy  and  intelli- 
gent citizen  of  Jerusalem,  after 
the  type  of  Nathanael  most  like- 
ly, had  heard  Jesus  preach,  and 
his  heart  was  stirred  as  when 
the  wind  bloweth  on  the  face  oi 
the  waters.  He  went  alone  and 
quietly  to  Jesus — not  because 
he  was  afraid,  but  because  there 
are  people  who  will  not  expose 
their  soul  to  the  multitude — ana 
they  understood  each  other  in  a 
moment.  Wherever  it  was  pos- 


10  THE  GOODMAN 

sible  they  met — Jesus  and  His 
nameless  friend.  When  they 
were  separated  by  distance  and 
circumstances,  they  thought  and 
felt  together.  He  was  not  one 
of  the  apostles — every  disciple 
could  not  be — but  he  entered 
into  Jesus'  enterprise  ;  he  was 
not  seen  by  Jesus'  side — Judas 
had  courage  for  that — but  he 
loved  the  Lord.  While  the 
rulers  were  trying  to  ensnare 
Jesus  by  their  false  questions, 
and  the  silly  people  were  chat- 
tering about  His  claims,  Jesus' 
friend  was  considering  how  he 
could  help  Him.  Love  is  ever 
thoughtful :  love  is  ever  in- 
spired. It  enters  into  another's 
heart  and  divines  his  wishes. 
'  What  can  I  do  for  my  friend  ?' 
]  hear  *he  '  goodman  of  the 
house  '  say  to  himself.  '  God 
has  not  made  me  to  speak  and 
debate,  and  there  be  plenty  at 


OF  THE  HOUSE  II 

that  work.  Jesus  does  not  de- 
sire to  escape  the  Cross,  nor  is 
He  afraid  :  what  would  He  most 
desire,  and  what  would  please 
Him  most  before  the  end  ?  Let 
me  give  Him  a  chamber  where- 
in He  may  keep  His  great  Pass- 
over, and  one  house  in  Jerusa- 
lem to  be  His  own  for  the  lasf 
night. '  One  would  like  to  know 
how  Jesus  looked  when  His 
friend  made  this  offer.  For 
once  He  had  been  understood  ; 
for  once  He  would  be  satisfied. 

This  is  only  one  chapter  in  a 
long  romance — the  friendship  of 
quiet  people  with  Jesus.  They 
meet  with  Jesus  by  some  happy 
accident — the  seeing  of  a  pic- 
ture, the  reading  of  a  book,  th& 
hearing  of  a  sermon— and  are  in- 
stantly attracted,  because  be- 
tween them  and  Jesus  there  is 
an  affinity  of  nature.  Neither 
time  nor  space  are  conditions  in 


It  THE   GOODMAN 

the  intercourse  of  the  soul,  and 
so  a  steady  friendship  springs 
up  between  those  good  men  and 
the  Master,  fed  by  many  a  rev- 
elation, many  an  hour  of  com- 
munion, many  a  succour  in  spir- 
itual need.  They  are  obscure 
Christians,  for  their  names  can- 
not be  found  on  the  roll  of  the 
holy  ministry  or  among  the  lead- 
ers of  the  religious  world.  They 
are  often  nameless  Christians  ; 
they  are  not  numbered  in  any 
denomination  or  under  any 
creed-  One  might  never  asso- 
ciate these  persons  with  Jesus 
at  all  were  it  not  for  a  certain 
distinction  of  manner,  as  if  they 
had  lived  in  high  company  ;  for 
an  accent  in  conversation  which 
is  of  Galilee,  for  a  chance  re- 
mark that  reminds  one  of  the 
Master.  &  It  comes  upon  us  as  a 
surprise,  for  none  has  seen  this 
man  with  Jesus.  No,  not  in  the 


OF   THE   HOUSE 


Temple  or  the  wayside  ;  but  we 
forget  the  sides  of  Olivet  and 
many  a  trysting-place  where 
Apostles  may  not  be  always 
found,  or  may  be  sleeping. 
This  is  one  of  Jesus'  private 
friends, 

Times  come  when  Jesus'  pub- 
lic friends  withdraw  and  disap- 
pear :  these  are  the  seasons  when 
His  private  friends  show  them- 
selves. They  are  too  modest 
and  self-distrustful  to  air  them- 
selves by  His  side  when  the  peo- 
ple strew  branches  on  the  road 
and  cry,  '  Hosanna  to  the  Son 
ot  David.'  When  the  hosannas 
die  into  silence,  and  the  crowd 
vanishes,  they  come  out  from  the 
shadow  and  claim  their  friend. 
While  Judas  makes  his  bargain 
with  the  priests,  they  anoint  the 
body  of  Jesus  for  the  burial. 
When  St.  John  himself  forgets  to 
offer  the  use  of  his  house  for  the 


T4  THE   GOODMAJN 

Passover,  they  make  ready  an 
upper  room.  When  St.  Peter 
has  denied  that  he  ever  knew  the 
Lord,  they  hurry  at  the  moment 
of  greatest  risk  to  own  Him  be- 
fore principalities  and  powers. 
Simple  women  have  kept  the 
piety  of  the  Church  fragrant 
when  famous  ecclesiastics  have 
trafficked  with  gold.  Generous 
hearts  have  sheltered  a  homeless 
Christ  in  the  poor  and  little  chil- 
dren, although  they  wrote  no 
epistles  for  after  ages.  Mystics 
have  confessed  His  name  when 
it  was  a  by-word,  though  they 
might  not  repeat  it  in  creeds. 
There  is  a  secret  society  of  the 
friends  of  Jesus,  and  they  have 
a  password  of  their  own  ;  as 
often  as  Jesus  and  they  meet  in 
the  busy  street,  a  flash  of  intel- 
ligence passes  between  them, 
and  Jesus  knows  that  though 
every  other  door  in  Jerusalem 


OF  THE  HOUSE  1$ 

be  closed,  the  '  goodman  of  the 
house '  hath  his  guest-chamber 
ready. 

Certain  good  deeds  receive 
their  wages  in  the  daytime,  and 
certain  must  wait  till  set  of  sun  ; 
but  some  have  their  due  recom- 
pense both  in  this  world  and  in 
that  which  is  to  come,  and  to 
this  twice-blessed  class  belongs 
the  hospitality  of  Jesus'  name- 
less friend.  He  was  not  himself 
present  in  the  room,  nor  would 
he  expect  to  be  admitted  to  the 
fellowship  of  the  Holy  Apostles. 
It  was  enough  for  him  to  keep 
watch  without  and  take  order 
that  Jesus  be  not  disturbed  for 
this  brief  hour  before  His  death. 
As  Judas  left,  he  would  see 
through  the  open  door  the  per- 
fect peace  of  Jesus'  family,  and 
St.  John's  head  on  Jesus'  breast. 
He  would  catch  the  low,  sweet 
sound  of  Jesus'  voice  as  He 


16  THE   GOODMAN 

spake  in  the  Holy  Sacrament, 
and  perhaps  from  his  place  he 
joined  in  the  hymn  they  sang 
before  Jesus  went  out  to  Geth- 
semane.  The  deserted  room 
would  seem  desolate  to  him  as 
he  entered  where  there  was  now 
no  feast,  and  the  very  light  had 
gone  out  with  Jesus.  With  his 
own  hands,  and  a  sad  tender- 
ness, would  this  goodman  rear- 
range the  room  where  the  pres- 
ence of  Jesus  still  lingered  in  the 
couch  on  which  He  reclined, 
and  the  cup  He  had  touched. 
Then  a  sudden  thought  would 
enter  his  heart  and  charge  it 
with  pride  and  gratitude  and  an 
exceeding  joy.  Within  his  house 
the  Lord  had  kept  the  Passover 
with  His  disciples :  He  had 
given  His  last  discourse  at  his 
table  t'  from  his  house  He  had 
gone  out  to  offer  His  sacrifice. 
This  room  was  now  a  sacred 


Or  THE   HOUSE  I/ 

place — no  longer  for  the  com- 
mon uses  of  life,  but  to  be  kept 
for  the  Lord,  if  haply  He  should 
return,  and  His  friends.  When 
the  disciples  crept  from  their 
various  lodgings  on  the  first  day 
of  the  week,  they  made  as  by  an 
instinct  for  the  goodman's  house, 
and  were  not  surprised  to  find 
him  waiting  in  the  shadow  of 
the  door.  He  knew  that  they 
would  come,  and,  as  is  the  way 
in  our  deeper  hours,  he  led  them 
without  a  word  to  the  upper 
room.  It  was  to  that  room — as 
we  imagine — the  women  came 
with  the  first  news  of  the  Resur- 
rection, the  goodman  being  now 
with  the  company  ;  and  later  in 
the  day  a  new  Simon  arrived, 
fresh  from  a  solitary  meeting, 
with  Jesus — the  joy-light  shin- 
:ng  through  his  tears — and  de- 
clared for  himself,  '  The  Lord 
hath  risen  '  ;  and  hither  hurried 


1 8  THE   GOODMAN 

back  Cleopas  and  his  companion 
hot-foot  from  Emmaus  to  make 
known  that  the  Lord  had  been 
seen  in  the  breaking  of  bread. 
But  this  favoured  room  was  to 
receive  yet  higher  honour,  for 
here — the  doors  being  shut — the 
Risen  Lord  appeared  in  their 
midst  and  said,  '  Peace  be  unto 
you.'  Here  He  showed  His 
hands  and  His  feet  unto  St. 
Thomas  ;  here  He  breathed  on 
His  disciples  and  said,  '  Receive 
ye  the  Holy  Ghost '  ;  here,  a 
few  weeks  later,  the  Holy  Ghost 
descended  on  the  Church. 
Many  cathedrals  have  been  built 
unto  the  honour  of  Jesus'  name, 
but  none  can  ever  be  so  dear  to 
the  Church  as  the  goodman's 
house.  Times  without  number 
have  the  disciples  of  the  Lord 
celebrated  the  Holy  Supper,  but 
none  :an  be  compared  with  the 
evening  when  with  His  own 


OF  THE   HOUSE  19 

hands  Jesus  gave  the  bread  and 
the  wine.  The  Blessed  Spirit 
which  proceedeth  from  the  Fa- 
ther and  the  Son  moveth  the 
hearts  of  men  in  all  ages,  but  it 
can  never  be  forgotten  that  He 
descended  from  the  Risen  Lord 
in  a  certain  place.  The  Church 
of  the  New  Testament  was  born 
in  a  room  which  the  mindful  hos- 
pitality of  the  '  goodman  '  afford- 
ed to  Jesus. 

It  might  well  seem  that  the 
using  of  his  room  were  enough 
guerdon,  but  Jesus  had  still 
something  in  store  for  His  friend. 
The  last  time  they  met  beneath 
the  olives  the  goodman  had 
pledged  Jesus  to  come  to  his 
house  before  He  went  to  the 
Cross,  and  Jesus  had  kept  the 
tryst,  as  all  the  Church  of  God 
below  knoweth  ;  and  then  before 
they  parted  Jesus  would  ple^e 
the  goodman  to  visit  H;TI  in 


2O  THE   GOODMAN 

His  house  after  he  was  done 
with  earth,  and  one  day  the 
goodman  kept  this  other  tryst, 
as  the  Church  of  God  above 
knoweth.  As  a  monarch  in  a 
foreign  land  Jesus  had  received 
ungrudging  hospitality  ;  now  it 
was  His  opportunity  to  pay 
the  debt  in  His  own  country, 
and  one  loves  to  think  of  the 
meeting.  His  friend  had  dared 
to  have  Jesus  for  his  guest  the 
day  before  the  Crucifixion,  and 
in  His  turn  Jesus  would  confess 
His  friend's  name  before  His 
Father  and  the  holy  angels. 
With  his  own  hands  had  this 
citizen  of  Jerusalem  made  ready 
his  best  chamber  for  Jesus,  and 
the  Master  would  not  fail  to  pre- 
pare a  place  for  him  in  the  heav- 
enly city.  Upon  the  threshold 
had  this  householder  met  the 
Lord  and  entreated  Him  to  come 
in,  and  of  all  who  have  ever 


OF  THE   HOUSB  21 

passed  through  the  gates  into 
the  city,  none  have  received  a 
more  grateful  welcome  than 
'  the  goodman  of  the  house.' 


THE    GUEST-CHAMBER  OF 
THE   SOUL 


The  Master  saith  unto  thee,  Where  i» 
the  guest-chamber  where  I  shall  eat  the 
passover  with  my  disciples  ? 


The  house  is  not  for  me — it  is  for  him. 
His  Royal  thoughts  require  many  a  stair, 
Many  a  tovrer,  many  an  outlook  fair, 
Of  which  I  have  no  thought,  and  need 

no  care. 
Where  I  am  most  perplexed,  it  may  be 

there 
Thou  mak'st  a  secret  chamber,  holy — 

dim 
Where  thou  wilt  come  to  help  my  deepest 

prayer. 

— GEORGE  MACDONALD. 


THE  GUEST-CHAMBER  OF 
THE  SOUL 

No  one  can  fail  to  notice  that 
Jesus  spent  His  life  for  the  most 
part  in  the  open  air,  and  that  the 
Gospels  carry  on  them  the  breath 
of  the  country.  He  founded 
His  kingdom  on  a  hill- side, 
where  the  wind  blew  as  it  listed, 
and  His  chosen  oratory  was  un- 
der the  silver  olive-trees.  Time 
and  again  Jesus  fled  to  the  des- 
ert, where  the  pasture-lilies  grew 
in  their  unclothed  multitude,  or 
to  some  solitary  place  where  He 
could  be  alone  with  God  in  the 
cool  and  silent  night.  The  peo- 
ple came  to  see  '  a  young  man 
preaching  in  a  boat/  and  He 
spoke  to  them  of  the  sower  that 
went  forth  to  sow.  This  Mas- 


26         THE   GUEST-CHAMBER 

ter  loved  to  teach  His  disciples 
amid  the  standing  corn,  and  led 
the  outcast  into  the  paths  of 
peace  where  the  trees  cast  their 
shadow  over  a  Samaritan  well. 
His  nation  rejected  Him  in  the 
morning  light  before  Pilate's 
palace,  and  the  Messiah  was  cru- 
cified upon  a  green  hill  '  outside 
a  city  wall.'  Our  Faith  is  sane 
and  reasonable,  with  its  radiant 
facts,  its  convincing  principles, 
its  simple  commandments,  its 
practical  services,  its  wide  sym- 
pathies, a  religion  with  the  arch 
of  blue  above  its  head  and  the 
homely  wild  flowers  round  its 
ieet. 

It  will  also  be  remembered 
that  Jesus  did  not  disdain  human 
homes,  with  their  sorrow  and 
pain,  their  wealth  also  of  love 
and  promise,  and  so  it  has  come 
to  pass  that  some  of  the  finf-sf 
scenes  in  the  Gospels  are  in- 


OF  THE   SOUL  2/ 

tenors.  It  was  at  a  marriage 
feast  Jesus  wrought  His  first 
miracle,  and  His  glory  shone 
iorth  that  day  as  in  Tintoretto's 
picture  of  Cana,  where  the  light 
breaks  on  the  faces  of  the  gold- 
en-haired Venetian  women.  A 
softer  light  falls  on  Nicodemus 
as  he  inquires  the  way  of  truth  ; 
and  in  the  shadow  of  the  room 
St.  John  watches  and  under- 
stands. Within  Simon's  inhos- 
pitable house,  St.  Mary  Magda- 
lene was  delivered  from  her 
woeful  past,  when,  counting  that 
her  sin  had  dashed  Christ  Him- 
self, she  washed  His  feet  with 
her  tears,  and  so  cleansed  both 
her  Saviour  and  herself.  OAnd 
the  Church  of  all  ages  has  made 
her  pious  pilgrimage  to  the 
goodman's  house,  and  seen  in 
tender  imagination  Jesus  giving 
of  His  body  and  blood  'XD  the 
twelve  in  sign  of  the  sacrifice 


28         THfi   GUEST-CHAMBER 

He  had  offered  all  His  life,  and 
was  next  day  to  complete  on 
Calvary.  So  it  is  to  be  laid  to 
heart  that  our  faith  is  also  in- 
ward, with  visions  when  the 
water  of  life  turns  into  the  wine 
of  God,  with  experiences  when 
the  whole  trend  of  thought  is 
changed,  with  repentances  when 
a  broken  heart  ends  in  peace, 
with  deliverances  when  dumb 
instincts  of  the  soul  turn  into 
certainty,  with  hours  of  com- 
munion when  the  soul  is  bap- 
tized into  the  spirit  of  Jesus'  sac- 
rifice. For  one  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian, it  is  only  necessary  that  he 
be  loyal  ;  but  to  be  a  Christian 
of  the  first  order,  he  must  be 
mystical.  Jesus  still  comes  to 
us  in  our  outer  life,  and  blessed 
is  the  man  who  arises  and  fol- 
lows Him  whithersoever  He 
goes.  Jesus  still  comes  to  the 
door  of  the  soul,  and  that  man 


OF  THE   SOUL  29 


is  most  blessed  who  receives  the 
Lord  into  his  guest-chamber. 

Jesus  is  the  best  of  all  the  guests 
who  visit  the  human  soul.  It  is 
with  the  soul  as  with  a  house 
in  this  matter  of  hospitality. 
Houses  there  are  where  no  fire 
is  lit  in  the  guest-chamber  from 
January  to  December,  where  no 
generous  feast  is  placed  upon 
the  board,  where  there  is  no 
kindly  excitement  on  the  thresh- 
old, because  no  guest  ever  rests 
beneath  that  roof.  The  house- 
holder may  be  most  respectable, 
but  he  can  hardly  have  much 
humanity,  and  it  is  certain  that 
his  family  will  suffer  loss.  The 
'coming  of  guests  revives  and 
enriches  the  common  life,  for 
each  one  has  his  own  tale  to 
tell.  His  presence  in  the  house 
is  an  inspiration,  and  he  does 
not  utterly  depart  with  the  God- 
speed at  the  outer  gate  ;  some- 


30         THE    GUEST-CHAMBER 

thing  has  been  left  behind,  the 
effect  of  another  individuality 
which  leaves  its  trace  on  the 
household,  and  a  subtle  fra- 
grance, as  when  sandal-wood 
has  lain  for  a  while  in  paper, 
or  rosemary  among  clothes. 
Guests  which  came  in  the  body 
have  been  to  many  as  the  an- 
gels, for  they  sealed  the  prom- 
ises of  God,  and  opened  new 
worlds  to  their  faith.  More 
grateful  still  must  be  the  stran- 
gers who  come  in  the  spirit,  and 
visit  our  souls,  the  masters  who, 
being  dead,  yet  live  for  ever  in 
their  books  and  works,  How 
dreary  and  unwholesome  must 
be  the  mind  whose  blinds  are 
ever  drawn,  whose  door  is  ever 
locked,  while  the  sunlight  beats 
on  the  roof  and  the  merry  crowd 
sing  in  the  street.  How  fa- 
voured and  content  must  be  the 
mind  where  th^  nrophets  of  God 


OF  THE   SOUL  3! 

come,  not  as  strangers,  with  for- 
mality and  diffidence,  but  as 
friends  that  have  their  appointed 
room,  and  use  the  passwords  of 
the  house.  He  who  hath  Soc- 
rates and  Virgil,  and  Dante  and 
Shakespeare,  in  his  guest-cham- 
ber, need  not  vex  himself  for 
that  his  house  be  small,  because 
nobles  do  not  always  entertain 
such  company  in  their  castles. 
Among  all  the  spiritual  guests 
that  cross  our  threshold,  Jesus 
is  not  only  incomparably  the 
best  by  the  excellence  of  His 
Divinity,  but  also  the  most  inti- 
mate by  the  presence  of  the  same 
Divinit}'  He  wrote  no  book, 
and  does  not  live  in  books.  He 
is  not  distant — somewhere  in 
the  unseen  world — but  present, 
here,  in  the  midst  of  human  lite. 
We  do  not  merely  read  of  Him 
— He  speaks  to  us  ;  we  do  not 
merely  learn  His  thoughts — we 


32         THE   GUEST-CHAMBER 

come  to  know  Himself.  If  any 
one  receive  Him  into  his  soul, 
Jesus  comes  to  have  a  place  of 
His  own  that  has  no  parallel  in 
life,  and  which  has  no  proof  save 
in  experience.  While  the  pub- 
lic come  and  go  through  the 
house  in  the  busy  daytime,  this 
guest  keeps  His  room  ;  but  in 
the  quiet  hours  He  sits  with  us. 
We  make  Him  the  confidant  of 
our  secrets,  but  in  the  end  He 
tells  us  things  about  ourselves 
we  have  not  known.  We  turn 
to  Him  for  help,  but  find  that 
He  has  promised  what  we  were 
about  to  ask.  We  declare  a 
good  intention,  only  to  remem- 
ber it  was  His  suggestion.  His 
presence  is  an  irresistible  con- 
demnation of  wrongdoing,  a  per- 
petual inspiration  of  welldoing. 
He  joineth  Himself  as  by  an  ac- 
cident to  men  on  the  ways  of 
life  and  afterwards  maketh  as 


OP    TflE.    SOUL  33 

though  He  would  go  farther. 
When  they  constrain  Him  to 
abide,  it  does  not  matter  wheth- 
er the  soul  be  as  a  palace  or  a 
cottage  ;  He  will  enter,  and  the 
tenant  will  become  a  saint. 

When  any  one  receives  Jesus  as 
a  guest i  he  ought  to  give  Him  the 
Upper  Room.  For  it  happens 
that  there  are  fashions  in  this 
matter  of  spiritual  hospitality  ; 
and  though  they  be  all  well  in- 
tended, they  are  not  all  equally 
successful.  Some  receive  Jesus 
in  the  public  room  where  the 
work  of  life  is  done,  and  He  will 
not  despise  their  laborious  ser- 
vice— the  anxious  Marthas  of  the 
Christian  devotion.  But  she 
could  have  done  better  for  Jesus. 
Some  pay  Him  court  in  that  au- 
stere room  where  the  accounts  of 
life  are  kept  and  audited,  and 
Jesus  has  not  come  to  belittle 
their  obedience,  who  are  of  St, 


34         THE   GUEST-CHAMBER 

James's  righteous  kind.  But 
there  is  something  higher  than 
law.  Some  delight  to  see  their 
Master  in  the  room  that  is  lined 
with  books  of  ancient  learning, 
and  Jesus  hath  a  tender  regard 
for  the  St.  Pauls  that  must  know 
the  mysteries  of  His  Person. 
Yet  is  there  something  far  above 
theology.  For  some  have  not 
been  content  to  hold  Jesus  any- 
where save  in  the  room  which  is 
nearest  to  the  sky,  which  has 
windows  to  the  grey  east  and 
the  golden  west,  and  all  day 
long  is  full  of  warm  light  ;  and 
when  Jesus,  wearied  after  many 
fruitless  journeys,  is  brought 
within  the  door,  He  is  satisfied, 
as  one  who  has  come  home. 
This  ;s  sometimes  called  St. 
John's  room,  because  he  wrote 
pleasantly  about  it  and  the  things 
he  had  seen  from  its  windows  ; 
and  no  one  will  gainsay  that  it 


or  THE  SOUL  35 

is  the  Upper  Room.  For  work 
is  good,  and  righteousness  is 
good,  and  knowledge  is  good, 
but  best  of  all  is  love.  And  all 
the  other  rooms  in  the  soul  are 
gathered  under  love.  Be  sure 
he  will  not  fail  in  sacrifice  who 
loves  the  Lord  ;  his  conscience 
will  be  tender  that  is  bathed  in 
love,  and  no  one  can  know  deep 
mysteries  who  does  not  love. 
Love  is  Jesus'  chosen  guest- 
chamber,  and  he  that  has  Jesus 
for  a  guest  has  power,  and  good- 
ness, and  truth,  and  God. 

Jesus  needeth  a  large  Upper 
Room,  for  it  is  His  habit  to  travel 
with  a  band  of  friends.  He  did 
not  like  to  be  alone  in  His  life, 
save  when  He  separated  Himself 
for  a  space,  and  retired  into  the 
secret  place  of  God.  His  de- 
light was  to  gather  congenial 
men  to  His  side,  and  travel  in 
the  paths  of  life  with  them.  He 


36         THE   GUEST-CHAMBER 

Chared  the  round  of  human  ex- 
perience with  His  disciples,  ex- 
cept certain  last  trials  which  He 
kept  for  His  own  special  share, 
and  revealed  Himself  to  them  so 
familiarly  that  they  have  given 
us  a  likeness  of  Him  more  pre- 
cious than  all  the  books  in  the 
world.  During  the  centuries 
He  has  been  ever  adding  to  the 
number  of  His  friends  with  a 
very  wide  charity,  and  now  He 
seeks  hospitality  for  a  large  com- 
pany. Any  one  who  gave  a 
feast  to  Jesus  in  Galilee  had  to 
count  on  twelve  disciples  also  : 
but  he  were  a  shrewd  calculator 
that  could  now  estimate  the 
number  of  His  following.  There 
are  those  who  would  fain  have 
Jesus  without  His  friends,  but 
the  Master  does  not  relish  this 
invitation,  for  He  considereth 
that  if  we  have  not  love  enough 
to  afford  them  house  room  we 


OF  THE  SOUL  37 

can  have  very  little  for  Him. 
There  are  those  whose  guest- 
chamber  is  so  small  that  they 
think  it  impossible  to  squeeze  in 
the  disciples  however  much  they 
desired,  in  which  case  it  is  high 
time  they  were  building  a  wider, 
airier  Upper  Room  ;  and  per- 
haps there  may  be  certain  who 
would  stand  at  the  lower  door 
and  discriminate — admitting  one 
and  refusing  another.  These 
good  folk  forget  that  where  a 
royal  personage  honoureth  a 
house  he  invites  his  own  com- 
pany, and  also  that  they  might 
make  mistakes  for  ever  to  be  re- 
gretted, letting  in  Judas  Iscariot 
and  shutting  out  Judas  not  Is- 
cariot. It  is  the  chief  loss  of 
life  to  miss  entertaining  Jesus, 
but  it  would  be  a  severe  loss  also, 
if  it  be  indeed  possible  to  have 
the  Master  without  His  disci- 
ples, since  each  one  (even  Judas 


38         THE  GUEST  CHAMBER 

at  a  time)  can  tell  us  something 
of  Jesus.  They  do  themselves 
an  injury  that  have  likes  and  dis- 
likes among  the  friends  of  Jesus. 
Our  wisdom,  to  say  nothing  of 
our  charity,  is  to  show  hospital- 
ity to  every  one  that  has  lived 
with  Jesus,  for  so  will  come  to 
our  lowly  roof,  not  only  St. 
John  and  St.  Paul,  but  also 
Tauler  and  Thomas  a  Kempis, 
St.  Francis  and  St.  Bernard, 
George  Herbert  and  Jeremy 
Taylor,  John  Bunyan  and  Rich- 
ard Baxter,  Samuel  Rutherford 
and  Archbishop  Leighton,  with 
many  others  of  various  creeds, 
but  of  one  Love.  The)7  will  be 
acceptable  guests,  and  this  curi- 
ous thing  will  come  to  pass,  that 
with  every  new  guest  our  room 
will  grow  larger,  until  at  last 
it  will  seem  as  if  our  poor 
guest-chamber,  like  thai  of 
the  'goodman  of  the  house/ 


OF  THE   SOUL  39 

held     the     whole     Church     of 
God. 

Jesus  is  satisfied  with  very  sim- 
ple furnishing,  as  is  plain  if  any 
one  will  take  an  inventory  of  the 
'  goodman's  '  room.  An  ewer 
full  of  clean  cold  water  at  the 
door,  that  the  feet  soiled  on  life's 
journey  may  be  cleansed  before 
entering  into  the  Divine  fellow- 
ship. There  must  also  be  a  tow- 
el that,  after  the  Master's  exam- 
ple, proud  disciples,  contending 
who  shall  be  greatest,  may  be 
compelled  for  shame's  sake  to 
lay  aside  their  highmindedness, 
as  one  strips  off  a  coat,  and  learn 
to  serve.  Purity  and  humility 
go  far  to  make  a  fair  chamber 
for  Jesus,  and  one  other  thing 
only  is  needed — faith.  The 
goodman  provided  a  table,  but 
he  left  it  to  Jesus  to  bring  the 
feast,  and  Jesus  ever  desireth  the 
empty  soul  that  He  may  fill  it 


40         THE   GUEST-CHAMBER 

with  His  grace.  In  the  refec- 
tory of  San  Marco  of  Florence 
there  is  a  very  pleasant  picture 
wherein  St.  Dominic  is  seated 
at  table  with  his  monks,  and  he 
is  asking  a  blessing  over  cups 
that  have  no  wine  and  platters 
without  bread.  His  compan- 
ions are  amazed,  but  even  while 
the  saint  is  praying  the  angels 
of  God  are  moving  unseen 
through  the  room,  carrying  that 
bread  of  which  if  any  man  eat 
he  shall  never  hunger  again. 
For  it  cometh  to  pass  in  this  hos- 
pitality that  if  any  one  furnisheth 
a  chamber  for  Jesus  he  shall 
find  he  is  the  guest,  and  Jesus 
has  become  the  Host. 


THE    TWELVE 


"  He  sat  down  and  the  twelve  apostle! 
with  Him." 

"  As  for  me,  I  am  of  the  order  of  all 
the  saints,  and  all  the  saints  are  of  my 
order."— La  Mire  Angtliyut. 


THE  TWELVE 

ALL  the  words  of  Jesus  are  pre- 
cious, but  one  is  inclined  to  ar- 
range them  into  an  ascending 
series  alter  the  fashion  of  the 
'  Paradiso.'  Jesus  first  of  all 
laid  down  the  principles,  condi- 
tions, characteristics,  and  aims 
of  His  new  society  in  the  Ser- 
mon on  the  Mount.  This  is  the 
character  of  the  kingdom  of 
God.  Later  He  describes  the 
growth,  struggles,  dangers,  and 
hindrances  of  the  kingdom  in 
the  Parable  of  the  Sower,  and 
its  companions.  This  is  the  his- 
tory of  the  Kingdom.  By-and- 
bye  He  goes  deeper,  and  in  the 
synagogue  of  Capernaum  He 
unfolds  His  idea  of  life — how 


44  THE   TWELVE 

death  is  the  gate  of  life  and  men 
must  eat  His  Flesh  and  drink 
His  Blood.  This  is  the  secret 
of  the  kingdom.  And  then,  be- 
fore Jesus  went  to  the  cross,  He 
assembled  His  little  band  of  fol- 
lowers round  a  common  table 
and  told  them  that  love  was  the 
one  bond  of  union  in  heaven  and 
earth.  This  is  the  fellowship  of 
the  kingdom  of  God.  So  Jesus 
met  His  disciples  in  the  outer 
court  of  the  Law,  and  led 
them  into  the  heart  of  the 
Father. 

Among  the  discourses  of  Jesus, 
the  one  in  the  Upper  Room 
stands  alone,  and  a  certain  cir- 
cumstance doubles  its  interest 
It  is  a  conversation,  and  the  con- 
versations of  Jesus  have  a  pecul- 
iar attraction.  There  are  two 
people — Jesus  and  another — and 
the  other  is  my  representative. 
He  has  his  difficulty,  Jesus  re- 


THE   TWELVE  45 

moves  it ;  he  falls  into  some  mis- 
take, Jesus  corrects  it ;  he  asks 
his  question,  Jesus  answers  it. 
It  is  my  case  he  states.  When 
he  is  satisfied,  so  am  I.  I  am  in 
turn  Nicodemus  and  Nathanael. 
I  am  the  woman  of  Samaria  and 
the  young  ruler.  Without  these 
people,  their  stupidity,  their 
earnestness,  their  agony,  their 
relief,  the  Gospels  had  been 
poorer.  They  gave  play  to  the 
patience  and  wisdom  of  Jesus  ; 
they  called  forth  His  grace  and 
compassion.  Jesus'  chief  con- 
versation took  place  when  He 
sat  down  with  the  apostles  at 
the  Last  Supper.  There  were 
twelve  guests,  and  six  spoke  br 
word  or  deed.  As  each  comes 
forward,  one  can  identify  the 
type  and  recognise  himself. 
When  all  have  uttered  them- 
selves, the  Church  ot  Christ  is 
revealed  in  miniature,  as  it  has 


46  iriE  TWELVE 

stood  before  the  world  for  eigh- 
teen centuries. 

It  comes  as  a  surprise  that  one 
class  of  religious  people  is  unrep- 
resented :  no  disciple  is  per- 
fect. With  a  single  exception 
they  were  honest  men,  who  be- 
lieved in  Jesus,  who  had  follow- 
ed Him  loyally,  who  loved  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  had  given 
their  lives  to  its  service.  But 
their  minds  wern  darkened  by 
ignorance,  their  hearts  were  be- 
set by  sin,  their  lives  were  too 
sadly  dominated  by  self,  their 
wills  were  still  infirm.  They 
had  not  finished  their  battle  ; 
they  had  not  won  their  race. 
They  were  just  beginning  to 
fight — just  stripping  themselves 
for  the  course.  No  man  had 
come  to  his  full  height,  not  even 
John,  faking  them  all  in  all  — 
these  pioneers  cf  Christendom — 
they  wer^  not  conspicuously 


THE   TWELVE  47 

wiser,  truer,  bolder,  nor,  even 
including  Judas,  more  worldly, 
false,  cowardly  than  twelve 
Christians  of  to-day.  They  had 
still  to  be  made,  and  one  of 
them  would  break  finally,  as  it 
appears,  in  the  firing.  They 
sat  with  Jesus  in  the  Upper 
Room,  fairly  well  satisfied  with 
themselves,  but  they  would 
have  to  pass  through  much  dis- 
cipline before  they  sat  down  at 
the  marriage  supper  of  the 
Lamb.  One  of  them  was  to  fall 
before  he  could  learn  to  stand  ; 
one  would  be  quickly  put  to  the 
sword — not  the  least  fortunate  ; 
one  would  be  left  alone  in  his 
old  age — most  tried,  most  puri- 
fied, most  loved  of  all  ;  some 
would  wander  far  and  wide  be- 
yond our  ken.  Jesus  would 
keep  every  true  man  and  give 
him  the  victory.  They  wanted 
thrones,  and  lesus  grave  them 


THE  TWELVE 


the  cross  ;  but  they  got  their 
thrones  in  the  end,  that  handful 
of  Jewish  peasants,  and  are  judg- 
ing the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel 
to-day.  Jesus  was  not  amazed 
that  they  were  imperfect ;  Jesus 
was  not  impatient  with  their 
faults.  If  perfection  be  the  con- 
dition of  discipleship  in  the 
Christian  society,  then  honest 
men  will  be  obliged  to  go  out, 
beginning  at  the  best  down  to 
the  worst.  Jesus  will  be  left 
alone  with  the  Pharisees. 

It  is  the  false  disciple  who  is 
the  trial  of  Jesus,  and  Judas  was 
the  first  to  put  himself  in  evi- 
dence. This  was  not  because 
he  had  anything  to  say  :  his 
speaking  had  been  done  else- 
where and  his  cue  now  was  si- 
lence. His  deed  stood  in  place 
of  word's  and  lifted  him  into 
prominence,  for  the  moment  the 
most  exacting  and  influential  of 


THE   TWELVE  49 

the  twelve.  Jesus  was  unable 
to  look  on  Judas  and  hold  His 
peace.  Here  was  a  man  who 
had  been  called  to  the  apostolate 
and  had  pledged  himself  to  the 
cause,  who  had  worked  with 
Jesus,  lived  with  Jesus,  called 
Jesus  Lord  for  three  years  ;  who 
had  been  moved  by  false  am- 
bition from  the  beginning  ;  who 
had  worn  a  mask  in  the  most 
sacred  presence  ;  who  had  mis- 
used the  slender  means  of  the 
little  fellowship  ;  who  had  ar- 
ranged to  make  something  tangi- 
ble out  of  his  Master  ;  who  had 
arranged  that  Jesus  should  be 
betrayed  where  He  prayed — in 
Gethsemane.  One  does  not  im- 
agine Judas  as  a  man  of  evil 
looks  or  unbelieving  speech  : 
more  likely  he  was  an  ingratiat- 
ing personage  with  an  easy  flow 
of  noble  sentiments.  He  be- 
trayed Jesus  with  a  polite  man- 

D 


5O  THE   TWELVE 

ner.  Many  men  are  far  more 
trying  than  Judas,  and  play  the 
fool  as  this  astute  man  never 
would.  But  one's  moral  sense 
has  no  doubt  that  Judas  is  the 
worst  type  in  life.  One  may 
pardon  his  friend  if  he  be  a 
drunkard  or  a  miser,  or  if  he  be 
filled  with  pride  or  be  the  vic- 
tim of  an  evil  temper  ;  but  there 
is  no  way  of  living-  with  false- 
hood. Treachery  breaks  friend- 
ship :  it  cannot  be  endured. 
The  presence  of  Judas  was  hea- 
vier on  Jesus  than  the  cross. 
While  that  face  was  in  the  room 
Jesus  could  not  speak  with  free- 
dom ;  He  could  hardly  breathe. 
As  soon  as  Judas  departed  '  it 
was  night '  without,  but  within, 
a  load  was  lifted  from  the  soul 
of  Jesus  and  He  cried  :  '  Now  is 
ihe  Son  of  Man  glorified.'  Yet 
[he  Master  did  His  best  by  Ju- 
das, and  would  fain  have  saved 


THE  TWELVE 


him  from  himself.  He  kept  Ju- 
das by  His  side  after  the  charac- 
ter of  the  man  had  appeared  ; 
He  declared  in  Galilee  tne  spirit 
that  lived  in  him  ;  He  let  him 
know  in  Jerusalem  that  his  plots 
were  an  open  secret.  Jesus 
^ave  Judas  one  opportunity  after 
another  of  confession.  As  He 
washed  his  feet,  the  touch  of 
Jesus'  hand  ;  when  He  offered 
him  the  sop,  the  look  on  Jesus' 
!ace  ;  when  He  told  him  to  do 
his  work  quickly,  the  sound  of 
Jesus'  voice,  were  means  of 
grace.  If,  at  this  last  moment, 
he  had  cast  himself  on  his  Mas- 
ter's mercy,  we  should  have 
mentioned  his  name  to-day  —  the 
chief  sinner  saved.  Ju^°s  was 
to  be  Jesus'  failure. 

After  Judas  went  out  Peter 
took  occasion  to  declare  that  he 
would  die  for  Jesus,  and  after- 
wards he  denied  Jesus  ;  but  we 


52  THE   TWELVE 

must  never  confound  the  cow- 
ardice of  Peter  with  the  treach- 
ery of  Judas.  This  Apostle  was 
a  bundle  of  logical  and  moral  in- 
consistencies. He  confessed 
Jesus  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  and 
yet  would  give  Him  advice. 
He  would  strike  a  hasty  blow 
for  Jesus,  and  yet  could  not 
watch  with  Him  one  hour.  He 
would  go  to  meet  Him  on  the 
water,  and  yet  was  afraid  he 
should  be  drowned.  He  saw 
Christ's  holiness  so  clearly  one 
day  that  he  was  confounded,  but 
at  another  time  he  tempted  his 
Lord  like  Satan  himself.  He 
was  the  bravest  man  of  the 
Twelve  in  the  Upper  Room  ;  in 
the  High  Priest's  palace  he 
swore  Jesus  was  a  stranger.  If 
one  were  to  go  by  the  bare  evi- 
dence of  facts  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  prove  Peter  an  hon- 
est man  :  if  one  estimates  the 


THE   TWELVE  5J 

trend  of  character  Peter  cannot 
be  cast  out.  Send  him  after 
Judas  if  you  please,  you  have 
not  got  rid  of  Peter  :  he  only 
remains  outside  the  door  weep- 
ing bitterly.  He  stands  for 
that  enormous  class  who  are  a 
patent  perplexity  in  the  eyes  of 
the  Church,  the  world,  and 
themselves.  The  smoke  is  driv- 
en to  and  fro  by  sudden  gusts 
of  wind,  and  yet,  in  spite  of  all, 
it  is  still  ascending.  The  life  is 
blazing  with  contradictions,  but 
the  heart  follows  Christ. 

Thomas  speaks  next,  who  was 
a  complete  contrast  to  Peter, 
both  in  his  strength  and  weak- 
ness. This  was  no  creature  of 
impulses  and  emotions — first  to 
confess,  to  promise,  to  strike,  to 
flee  ;  but  a  strong,  silent,  re- 
served, gloomy  nature.  Very 
slowly  would  this  man  make  up 
his  mind,  and  very  severely 


54  THE  TWELVE 

would  he  try  all  the  evidence, 
but  where  he  took  his  stand,  he 
would  stand,  and  there  also  he 
would  die.  He  has  vindicated 
the  right  of  scepticism  within 
the  Church  ;  for  he  was  by  vir- 
tue of  his  questioning  nature,  a 
sceptic,  and  by  virtue  of  his  loy- 
alty, a  Christian.  The  charac- 
teristic of  Thomas  is  not  that  he 
doubted — that  were  an  easy  pass- 
port to  religion — but  that  he 
doubted  and  loved.  His  doubt 
was  the  measure  of  his  love  :  his 
doubt  was  swallowed  up  in  love. 
This  is  the  reason  John  under- 
stood Thomas,  because  they 
were  both  great  lovers  of  Jesus. 
He  declared  his  belief  that  if 
Jesus  went  to  Bethany  he  would 
be  killed,  but  in  the  same  breath 
Thomas  declared  his  intention 
of  going  to  die  with  Him  He 
was  certain  that  Jesus  had  not 
risen  from  the  dead,  but  was 


THE  TWELVE  55 

plainly  broken-hearted  on  that 
account.  Confessions  he  could 
not  make.  Neither  was  he  capa- 
ble of  denials.  He  was  not  good 
at  believing  ;  his  strength  lay  in 
loving.  His  views  were  dim 
and  defective,  but  he  clung  with 
the  affection  of  a  dumb  animal 
to  Jesus.  '  Whither  I  go  ye 
know,'  said  Jesus,  '  and  the  way 
ve  know.'  Thomas  protested 
at  once  against  such  reckless 
drafts  upon  his  faith.  '  We 
know  nothing,  Lord,  but  Thy- 
self ;  '  which  may  be  enough  in 
the  end,  for  Jesus  said,  '  Thou 
knowest  all  then.  I  am  the 
way,  the  truth  and  the  life.' 

Jesus'  conversation  with  Tho- 
mas was  a  little  trying  to  a 
fourth  Apostle  whose  mind  was 
alien  to  every  kind  of  specula- 
tion. Philip  was  the  very  type 
of  plain  downright  common 
sense,  the  mind  to  whom  the 


56  THE   TWELVE 

multiplication-table  will  ever  be 
the  model  for  a  creed.  It  was 
he  who  calculated  how  many 
pennyworths  of  bread  it  would 
take  to  feed  the  multitude,  and 
who  met  Nathanael's  difficulties 
about  Jesus  with  an  abrupt 
'  Come  and  see.'  Philip  could 
hardly  be  patient  with  Thomas, 
who  seemed  always  in  a  fog  ; 
he  became  a  little  impatient  even 
with  Jesus  when  He  .spoke  of 
seeing  the  Father.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  had  not  seen  the 
Father,  but  a  theophany  was 
what  they  did  want.  '  Show  us 
the  Father  and  it  sufficeth  us.' 
Good,  worthy  Philip  :  one  real- 
ises as  by  a  flash  the  limits  of  tri- 
umphant common  sense.  Relig- 
ion demands  some  insight,  some 
imagination,  some  spirituality  ; 
it  is  not  exhausted  in  every  day 
duty.  Philip  is  an  average  Eng- 
lishman ;  his  faith,  with  many 


THE  TWELVE 


robust  excellences,  wants  the 
touch  of  Celtic  mystery,  but  it 
can  always  be  depended  on  to 
produce  righteousness. 

No  one  else  interrupted  Jesus 
till  He  spoke  of  the  way  in 
which  He  would  manifest  Him- 
self to  His  disciples  and  not  to 
the  world.  This  distinction  ex- 
cited a  disciple  who  makes  his 
solitary  appearance  on  this  oc- 
casion, and  who  is  known  as  Ju- 
das, not  Iscariot.  Tradition  has 
it  that  he  was  an  ultra  Jew  and 
one  of  Jesus'  most  bigoted  fol- 
lowers. Very  likely  he  had 
been  alarmed  by  the  unlimited 
charity  of  Jesus  and  the  promis- 
cuous gathering  of  the  Christian 
Church.  Tesus  at  last  recog- 
nised the  right  of  His  friends  to 
some  exclusive  privileges,  and 
was  prepared  to  safeguard  them 
by  some  barrier.  Jesus  would 
manifest  Himself  to  the  few— 


58  THE  TWELVE 

that  was  right ;  He  would  not 
manifest  Himself  to  the  many — 
that  also  was  right.  But  how  ? 
Judas  was  anxious  to  learn  the 
condition  of  this  esoteric  com- 
munion— Judas  expected  some 
sign,  or  rite,  or  creed,  to  be  the 
separating  line  between  cove- 
nanted and  uncovenanted  peo- 
ple. Jesus  answered,  Love.  If 
any  one  loved  the  wide  world 
over,  in  him  God  would  dwell. 
It  was  a  delicate  rebuke  to  Ju- 
das, and  one  always  enjoys  the 
chastisement  of  bigotry.  But 
let  us  not  be  too  hard  on  the 
Judas  type,  calling  it  narrow 
and  obscurantist.  Let  us  do  its 
members  justice.  Judas  may 
not  be  liberal — be  sure  he  wil 
be  loyal — and  if  he  may  think  it. 
right  to  send  you  to  the  stake, 
he  will  also  go  himself  to  the 
death  for  conscience'  sake.  Ju- 
das he  is.  bu+  not  Iscariot. 


THE  TWELVE 


One  disciple  has  heard  every 
word  which  was  said  in  the  Up- 
per Room,  and  by-and-bye  he 
will  write  the  history  in  his  Gos- 
pel. Meanwhile  John  lays  his 
head  on  Jesus'  breast  and  keeps 
silence.  Why  should  he  speak  ? 
What  question  had  the  beloved 
disciple  to  ask  ?  Judas's  treach- 
ery had  not  come  as  a  surprise 
on  John,  for  his  instincts  had 
made  him  shrink  from  the  false 
soul.  He  needed  not  to  inquire 
the  way  to  Heaven,  for  the  inti- 
mate of  Jesus  had  been  walking 
therein  for  three  years.  For 
him  no  physical  theophany  was 
needed  who  had  looked  on  the 
face  of  Jesus.  What  were  mys- 
teries to  other  men  who  had  only 
sight,  were  revelations  to  him 
who  had  vision.  A  sceptic  must 
question  and  argue,  it  is  his  ne 
cessity  :  a  mystic  has  only  to 
learn  and  listen,  it  is  his  felicitj. 


6o  THE  TWELVE 

Once  John  did  speak,  but  it  was 
not  for  himself.  Peter  wished 
to  know  who  should  betray 
Jesus,  and  made  his  appeal 
through  John.  '  Lord,  who  is 
it?'  whispered  John  with  a 
friend's  liberty.  A  mystic  gath- 
ers truth  as  a  plant  absorbs  the 
light,  in  silence  and  without  ef- 
fort. His  service  to  his  breth- 
ren is  to  ask  secrets  of  the  Lord. 

Six  typical  men — a  false  disci- 
ple, a  faulty  disciple,  a  sceptical 
disciple,  a  practical  disciple,  a 
narrow  disciple,  a  mystical  dis- 
ciple ;  and  yet,  with  one  excep- 
tion, there  is  a  place  for  each  in 
the  fellowship  of  Christ. 

Six  disciples,  and  for  them  alt 
one  Lord,  who  unveils  Judas, 
sending  him  forth  to  finish  his 
work  and  to  die  of  remorse  : 
who  rebukes  the  self-confidence 
of  Peter  and  foretells  his  bitter 
humiliation  ;  who  takes  Thomas 


THE   TWELVE  6 1 

by  the  hand  and  leads  him 
through  the  darkness  ;  who  of- 
fers to  Philip  the  sure  evidence 
of  His  life  and  works ;  who 
loosens  the  bonds  of  Judas,  not 
Iscariot,  and  brings  him  into  a 
large  place  ;  who  satisfies  John 
with  Himself  and  His  love, —one 
glorious  Christ  who  is  unto  each 
disciple  what  he  needed  and 
more  than  he  imagined,  a  place 
of  '  broad  rivers  and  streams,' 
Judge,  Saviour,  Prophet,  Mas- 
ter, Deliverer,  Friend. 


THE    SHADOW    OF    THE 
CROSS 


Jesus  knew  that  His  hour  was  come. 


Many  soul-longings 
Have  I  had  in  my  day, 
Now  the  hope  of  my  life 
Is  that  tree  of  triumph 
Ever  to  turn  to. 

— CiEDMON. 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE 
CROSS 

ONE  of  the  modern  masters, 
touched  by  the  ancient  spirit  of 
religious  art,  has  given  us  the 
interior  of  the  Carpenter's  house 
at  Nazareth,  when  the  hour  is 
4  toward  evening  and  the  day  is 
far  spent.'  The  mellow  light  of 
the  setting  sun  floods  the  work- 
shop, bringing  into  relief  every 
shaving  on  the  floor  and  the 
rough  tools  hanging  on  the  wall, 
and  softens  the  distant  blue  seen 
through  an  open  window.  The 
Carpenter  has  had  a  long  day 
and  after  many  hours  of  striving 
and  toiling  is  wearily  stretching 
Himself  in  the  doorway.  Stand- 
ing at  full  height,  with  upturned 
face  and  extended  arms,  His 

E 


66  THE   SHADOW 

form  cast  a  shadow  across  the 
poor  room,  and  a  woman  kneel- 
ing in  a  corner  recognises  the 
ominous  outlines  of  the  Cross 
and  the  Crucified  Man.  In  this 
picture  art  has  represented  with 
much  insight  that  feature  of 
Jesus'  life  which  distinguishes  it 
from  every  other,  and  has  in- 
vested it  with  a  lonely,  unap- 
proachable sadness.  It  was  not 
a  life  which  happened  to  end  on 
a  Cross,  a  woeful  tragedy  :  it 
was  a  life  perpetually  under  the 
shadow  of  a  Cross — a  calculated 
sacrifice.  It  was  a  day  divided 

into  hours  and  the  great  hour 
was  Calvary.  Wherefore  it  is 

written,  '  When  Jesus  knew  thaf 
His  hour  was  come.' 

The  goal  of  our  vision  and  ef- 
fort is  not  the  valley  of  death 
but  the  gates  of  life.  A  young 
mother  holds  the  first-born  in 
her  arms  and  prays  that  she  may 


OF  THE  CROSS  6/ 

see  him  one  day  a  man  in  his 
prime.  His  father  dreams  ot 
the  work  the  boy  may  do  when 
his  own  race  has  been  run.  The 
lad  sees  the  long  day  stretch  be- 
fore him  and  imagines  what  he 
will  achieve  before  sunset.  The 
man  in  the  heat  of  life  strives 
and  toils  that  he  may  finish  his 
life  work.  And  the  patriarch 
forgets  his  years  as  he  lives 
afresh  in  his  children's  children. 
We  are  not  born  that  we  may 
die,  but  that  we  may  live  :  we 
labour  that  we  may  live  more 
abundantly.  We  fix  our  minds 
on  living,  we  guard  ourselves 
against  death.  The  will  of  God 
for  men  is  life,  and  the  Bible  is 
the  record  of  life,  full,  free,  re- 
joicing ;  of  men  who  loved,  who 
married,  who  did  great  works, 
who  died  in  old  age.  For  one 
Man  only  was  there  another 
will,  of  one  Man's  death  only 


68  THE   SHADOW 

does  the  Bible  make  more  than 
His  life.  This  is  singular  and 
deserving  to  be  noted,  for  as  it 
is  the  sign  of  ordinary  books  to 
make  much  of  death  it  belongs 
unto  the  grandeur  of  the  Bible 
to  speak  ever  of  life.  The  Evan- 
gelists wrote  from  the  foot  of 
the  Cross  and  have  a  certain 
note  of  Calvary.  Two  record 
that  Jesus  was  born  of  a  Virgin 
Mother  ;  four  that  He  was  cru- 
cified ;  two  that  He  had  a  sore 
conflict  with  the  Evil  One  ;  four 
that  He  was  crucified  ;  two  that 
He  spake  the  last  words  on  char- 
acter ;  four  that  He  was  cruci- 
fied. The  world  could  not  con- 
tain the  books  that  might  be 
written  about  His  life,  but  it 
seemed  unto  His  friends  the 
chief  event  that  Jesus  died. 

When  Jesus  sat  down  with  the 
Twelve,  the  Bread  and  Wine  on 
the  table  were  the  prophecy  of 


OF   THE   CROSi  69 

His  crucifixion,  but  long  before, 
the  omens  of  death  had  attended 
Him.  Before  He  was  born 
Prophets  described  His  suffer- 
ings, Priests  had  pictured  his 
sacrifice,  Poets  had  sung  His 
requiem.  As  soon  as  born  He 
was  baptized  with  blood  in  the 
massacre  of  the  Innocents  ;  and 
His  Mother  could  not  present 
Him  without  being  told  that  a 
sword  would  pierce  her  heart. 
When  the  Baptist  saw  Him  in 
the  beginning  of  His  ministry, 
the  Forerunner  identified  Him 
as  the  Passover  Lamb  ;  and  the 
High  Priest  could  not  think  of 
Him  without  declaring  that  it 
was  expedient  that  He  should 
die,  so  clearly  did  all  men  de- 
tect the  mysterious  shadow  that 
marks  those  appointed  unto 
death.  He  was  not  blind  to  the 
direction  of  His  life  and  through 
His  teaching  runs  ever  a  sombre 


70  THE   SHADOW 

thread.  He  is  the  Temple  which 
is  going  to  be  destroyed,  the 
heir  who  is  to  be  killed,  the  fruit 
of  that  which  is  to  fall  into  the 
ground,  the  Shepherd  who  is  to 
lay  down  His  life.  He  sees 
Himself  in  the  sacrifices  of  He- 
brew worship  ;  He  reads  Him- 
self into  the  most  plaintive 
prophecies ;  He  allies  Himself 
with  the  martyrs  slain  in  Jerusa- 
lem. When  His  disciples  desire 
to  share  His  throne,  He  tells 
them  they  must  drink  His  cup  : 
when  a  devoted  woman  anoints 
His  Body  He  explains  that  it  is 
for  His  burial.  If  He  hides 
Himself  it  is  only  that  He  may 
not  die  before  His  time  ;  if  He 
offers  any  defence  it  is  for  the 
sake  of  His  disciples.  He  kept 
a  traitor  among  His  disciples 
and  told  him  to  do  his  work 
quickly.  He  forbade  a  sword 
to  be  drawn  for  His  help  and 


OF  THE   CROSS  7! 

offered  Himself  to  the  soldiers. 
He  preached,  He  arranged,  He 
journeyed,  He  prepared  for 
death.  Other  men  rise  step  by 
step  till  they  stand  on  a  breezy 
table-land  where  they  live  :  this 
man  went  down  till  the  shadows 
deepened  into  the  darkness  ot 
Calvary. 

Three  times,  during  His  pub- 
lic lite,  did  Jesus  anticipate  the 
end,  and  stand  face  to  face  with 
the  Cross.  He  declared  to  an 
astonished  Pharisee  who  had 
come  to  speak  with  Him  regard 
ing  the  Kingdom  of  God,  that 
he  must  one  day  be  lifted  up 
like  the  serpent  in  the  wilder- 
ness ;  and  Nicodemus  under- 
stood that  dark  saying  when  he 
took  down  Jesus'  body  from  the 
Cross.  He  began  a  sermon  in 
the  Synagogue  of  Capernaum 
by  speaking  about  the  Bread  of 
Life,  and  then  under  the  inevita- 


THE   SHADOW 


ble  attraction  Jesus  passed  from 
the  white  and  innocent  bread  to 
flesh  and  blood,  seeing,  as  it 
were  through  an  open  door 
against  the  kindly  Galilean  blue, 
the  empty  Cross  inviting  Him. 
On  His  last  journey  the  disciples 
marked  with  awe  that  His  face 
was  set  as  one  who  is  straitened 
till  his  work  be  done,  and  they 
never  forgot  how  He  took  them 
aside  to  tell  them  of  His  coming 
death  while  the  people  passed 
in  their  joy  to  keep  the  Pass- 
over Feast. 

With  the  Resurrection  it 
might  have  been  expected  that 
the  Cross  would  have  been  ob- 
literated, but  it  only  reappeared 
in  the  consciousness  of  the 
Church.  While  other  leaders 
of  men  are  remembered  because 
they  lived,  this  Man  asked  it  to 
be  remembered  that  He  died. 
The  sign  of  identification  He 


OF  THE  CROSS  73 

r 

gave  to  a  doubting  disciple  was 
the  marks  in  His  hands  and  feet, 
and  of  all  the  risen  Christs  in 
art,  the  best  is  that  of  Sarto,  be- 
cause the  face  has  the  sad  mys- 
tery of  one  who  had  suffered 
and  the  crossed  hands  have  still 
the  wound  prints.  St.  Paul  only 
touches  lightly  on  the  life  of 
Jesus,  but  the  Cross  is  to  him 
the  starting-point  and  end  of  all 
his  teaching  and  St.  John  saw 
in  the  midst  of  the  throne  a 
Lamb  as  He  was  slain.  After 
pious  hands  had  removed  Jesus' 
body  the  soldiers  carried  away 
the  two  rude  beams  on  which 
He  had  died,  and  one  visiting 
Calvary  on  Good  Friday  even- 
ing had  seen  no  sign  of  the  great 
tragedy  save  trampled  grass  and 
a  few  drops  of  blood.  Within  a 
few  years  another  Cross  was  set 
up,  mystical  and  eternal,  whose 
shape  is  like  unto  a  throne 


74  THE   SHADOW 

whose  shadow  has  reached  unto 
the  ends  of  the  earth. 

The  Upper  Room  has  grown 
into  a  universal  Church  with  all 
kinds  and  conditions  of  men,  but 
the  Host  remains  unchanged 
and  is  for  ever  thought  of  as  giv- 
ing His  broken  Body  and  shed 
Blood.  Theology  has  many  de- 
partments, but  the  most  fruitful 
and  effectual  is  that  which  ex- 
pounds the  Death  of  Jesus.  Re- 
ligious art  has  done  her  best  by 
the  Annunciation,  the  Nativity, 
the  Ascension,  the  Judgment, 
but  has  reached  her  height  in  a 
Crucifixion.  If  Christians  ask 
to  be  delivered  from  their  sins 
it  is  by  the  Cross  and  Passion  of 
Jesus,  and  if  they  declare  their 
faith  it  is  in  Him  who  was  cru- 
cified and  who  overcame  the 
sharpness  of  death.  Christian 
hymnology  has  found  her  deep- 
est inspiration  at  thr  *>oss 


OF  THE   CROSS  7$ 

Christian  worship  comes  to  a 
height  in  the  celebration  of 
Jesus'  Death.  The  Church  of 
Christ  has  made  her  home  be- 
neath the  shadow  of  the  Cross. 

Had  one  questioned  the  little 
band  that  evening  how  Jesus' 
death  would  be  of  any  good  unto 
them  or  the  world,  then  it  is 
likely  that  St.  John  himself  had 
been  silent.  Much  has  been 
written  since  by  devout  schol- 
ars, and  some  of  their  words 
have  helped  and  some  have  hin- 
dered, and  the  reason  of  the 
great  mystery  of  sacrifice  has 
not  yet  been  declared.  After 
all  has  been  said  the  weary  heart 
turns  from  learned  books  to  the 
Upper  Room,  where,  as  He 
once  gave  the  signs,  so  now  for 
ever  Jesus  giveth  Himself  to  all 
that  will  take  Him  and  His 
Cross  ;  and  this  thing  alone  is 
certain  that  every  one  who  tak- 


76  THE  SHADOW 

eth  Him  with  an  honest  heart  is 
made  clean  and  strong.  There 
is  one  modern  Crucifixion  which 
is  perfectly  satisfying  because  it 
leaves  everything  beyond  Jesus 
and  the  soul  to  the  imagination. 
It  is  a  space  of  black  darkness, 
with  some  dim  strokes  of  light, 
and  as  you  try  to  pierce  the 
gloom  they  suggest  the  form  of 
a  Crucified  Man.  The  face  is 
faintly  visible  and  a  ray  from 
the  forehead  striking  downwards 
reveals  a  kneeling  figure  at  the 
foot  of  the  Cross.  Within  the 
secret  place  of  this  mystery  the 
human  soul  and  Jesus  meet  and 
become  one. 

It  seemed  as  if  none  could  be 
weaker  than  Jesus  in  the  Upper 
Room  and  that  His  weakness 
was  the  Cross.  No  one  in  real- 
ity was  heir  to  such  dominion 
and  glory,  and  the  guarantee  of 
the  fitness  was  the  Cross.  The 


OF  THE  CROSS  77 

sympathy  of  the  Cross  is  his- 
tory, and  in  all  ages,  as  often  as 
the  world  falls  to  pieces  round  a 
man,  he  takes  him  to  the  shelter 
of  the  Crucified.  When  an 
earthquake  swept  along  the  Ri- 
viera, the  priest  and  people  of 
one  little  village,  perched  on  the 
hillside,  were  at  early  service, 
and  they  saw  their  church  begin 
to  shake.  One  place  only  was 
immovable,  the  altar  :  one  fig- 
ure only  was  untouched,  the 
Christ  above  it.  Round  His 
feet  the  terrified  people  gath- 
ered and  were  safe.  Next  day 
the  Man  of  Sorrows  looked 
down  on  the  waste  of  ruins  an^ 
His  face  was  full  of  compassion. 


A  LAST  WISH 


This  do  in  remembrance  of  me. 


He  was  the  Word  that  spake  it, 
He  took  the  bread  and  brake  it, 
And  what  that  Word  did  make  it 
I  doe  beleeve  and  take  it. 

— DONNE, 


A  LAST  WISH 

No  human  being  lives  who  does 
not  desire  to  be  remembered 
alter  he  has  departed  from  this 
world,  and  in  proportion  to  the 
loyalty  of  his  own  love  will  be 
the  strength  of  this  passion.  It 
would  add  a  new  horror  to  death 
to  think  that  one  was  no  sooner 
out  of  sight  than  he  was  also  out 
of  mind,  and  had  no  longer  any 
place  in  the  thoughts  of  those 
with  whom  he  lived  and  la- 
boured, whom  he  loved  and 
served.  \Vhat  avail  is  there  in 
life  which  is  so  soon  dissipated  ? 
'  What  treasure  is  there  in  love 
which  so  quickly  fades  ?  '  It 
would  rob  death  of  half  its  sting 
to  be  assured  that  daily  your 

F 


82  A   LAST   WISH 

face  would  live  before  the  vision 
of  faithful  hearts,  and  your  mem- 
ory, with  redeeming  faults  as 
well  as  some  few  excellences,  be 
kept  green  by  unchanging  affec- 
tion. Few  contrasts  come  near- 
er to  the  tears  of  things  than  two 
graves  side  by  side  in  a  dreary 
city  cemetery.  On  the  one  the 
grass  grows  rank  and  unrelieved, 
though  the  latest  date  be  only  a 
year  old,  while  on  the  other  the 
forget-me-nots  are  flowering, 
and  there  are  fresh  signs  of  a 
ten  years'  vigil.  This  name 
needed  not  to  be  graven  on 
stone  for  it  has  been  printed  for 
ever  on  some  fond  heart. 

Our  Master  was  most  human 
in  the  Upper  Room,  and  with 
His  last  wish  suggests  irresisti- 
bly a  mother's  farewell.  She 
does  not  remind  her  children 
that  she  has  done  all  things  for 
them  at  sore  cost,  for  this  was 


A   LAST   WISH  83 

her  joy.  Nor  does  she  make 
demands  of  hard  service  now 
any  more  than  in  the  past.  But 
one  thing  the  mother  hungereth 
and  thirsteth  for,  and  desireth 
not  with  words  only  but  with 
her  eyes  as  she  looketh  round 
on  those  she  can  no  longer  serve, 
but  will  ever  love.  '  Do  not 
forget  me  ' — how  few  and  short 
the  words,  how  full  and  strong 
are  they  written  out  at  large. 
'  Live  as  I  would  wish,  believe 
as  I  have  believed  :  meet  me 
where  I  go,'  all  that  is  the  pray- 
er, but  mostly  this,  '  Think  of 
me,  realise  me — love  me  till  we 
stand  once  more  face  to  face. 
After  the  same  fashion  of  the 
heart,  which  is  the  same  in  all 
ages,  in  God  also  as  in  man, 
Jesus  looked  round  the  Twelve 
gathered  at  the  Holy  Table. 
For  three  years  he  had  giveD 
everything  to  them,  and  they 


84  A  LAST  WISH 

had  given  nothing  to  Him.  He 
had  called  them  by  name  and 
opened  to  them  the  Kingdom  of 
God.  He  had  loosed  the  intol- 
erable burden  of  their  sins,  and 
answered  the  secret  longings  of 
their  souls.  Already  He  was 
planning  how  they  might  escape 
from  the  hatred  of  His  enemies, 
so  that  not  one  of  them  who  had 
been  blessed  by  His  life  should 
suffer  in  His  death.  One  thing 
only  they  could  do  for  their 
Lord,  one  thing  He  desired  of 
them,  with  that  He  would  go  to 
the  Cross  content.  He  could 
endure  Calvary,  but  not  that  He 
be  forgotten  by  John  and  Peter 
and  the  company  of  the  three 
years.  The  Sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  is  a  very  great 
mystery,  and  it  is  the  means  of 
conveying  unspeakable  bless- 
ings, but  the  Lord  intended  that 
the  Bread  and  Wine  should  first 


A  LAST   WISH  85 

of  all  win  tor  Him  His  one  re- 
quest that  He  be  remembered. 

Has  it  not  come  to  pass  with 
many  Christian  folk  that  the 
good  Lord  who  loveth  us  is  to 
their  minds  little  else  than  a  pic- 
ture of  fine  colours  in  a  golden 
Irame,  and  that  He  is  not  thought 
of  as  utter  flesh  and  blood  who 
can  bear  anything,  be  it  ever 
so  cruel  and  shameful,  for  His 
friends,  but  whose  heart  will 
break  if  lie  should  be  forgotten. 
Yet,  is  not  this  the  Lord  most  of 
us  need,  in  whom  we  would  be 
satisfied  ?  Some  there  may  be 
of  such  exalted  imagination  that 
they  can  only  conceive  of  Jesus 
in  the  Glory  of  the  Father  with 
the  Holy  Angels.  Others  there 
are  whose  souls  demand  a  near- 
er, kinder,  humaner  Lord,  and 
they  find  Him  in  the  Master  who 
offered  the  symbols  of  His  love 
with  a  certain  wistfulness,  be- 


86  A  LAST  WISH 

cause  as  on  earth  He  felt  most 
of  all  desertion,  so  in  the  ages 
He  could  only  live  unto  His  lik- 
ing in  the  hearts  of  His  friends. 
Jesus  does  not  need  to  plead 
that  He  be  remembered  in  the 
world,  for  indeed  He  cannot  be 
overpassed.  If  the  Gospels  and 
every  writing  of  the  faith  were 
destroyed  beyond  recovery,  the 
Church,  dominate  ,n  two  Conti- 
nents, visible  in  two  more,  pre- 
senting a  perennial  vigour,  and 
shedding  an  indescribable  grace, 
would  compel  attention.  If  the 
Church  also  were  obliterated  in 
some  like  unimaginable  catas- 
trophe, Jesus  had  not  disap- 
peared. The  chief  philanthro- 
pies of  civilised  nations,  the  state 
books  of  government,  the  con- 
stitution of  society  are  the  out- 
come of  Jesus  Spirit.  It  is  im- 
possible to  explain  human  life  or 
human  history  without  Jesus, 


A   LAST   WISH 


who  is  woven  into  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  race,  who  will  yet 
find  in  the  race  His  everlasting 
memorial.  His  presence  is 
everywhere  as  the  sunlight 
which  at  some  hour  strikes  into 
each  nook,  which  colours  each 
flower.  But  Jesus  is  not  to  be 
for  one  moment  thought  of  as 
simply  the  divinest  of  all  the 
forces  that  mould  life  to  God, 
immanent  by  His  Spirit,  but  as 
the  Man  who  ever  loves  most 
passionately  and  hungers  most 
for  love.  He  careth  little  for 
monuments  ;  He  craveth  for 
hearts.  Jesus  is  only  satisfied 
when  the  doors  are  shut  to  the 
world  ;  and  in  a  quiet  place  His 
friends  meet  to  keep  His  com- 
mandment Whether  it  be  in 
the  shadow  of  a  cathedral  where 
the  hushed  multitude  kneel  at  the 
lifting  of  the  Host,  or  in  some 
Puritan  meeting-room  where  the 


A   LAST  WISH 


elements  of  the  Sacrament  ars 
passed  from  hand  to  hand,  or  on 
the  mountain  side  where  Scot- 
tish covenanters  keep  the  Feast, 
or  in  the  dreary  Catacombs 
where  early  Christians  show 
forth  the  death  they  may  to-mor- 
row share,  it  is  the  same  to  Him 
who  is  above  all  rites,  who  lives 
for  love. 

It  happened  once  that  a  family 
had  a  father  who  was  a  bene- 
factor to  the  state  and  did  such 
service  that  after  his  death  a 
statue  was  erected  in  a  public 
place  to  his  memory,  and  on  the 
pedestal  his  virtues  were  en- 
graven that  all  might  read  his 
name  and  revere  his  memory. 
His  children  mingled  with  the 
people  as  they  stood  in  that 
square  and  listened  to  their  fa- 
ther's praise  with  pride.  But 
their  eyes  were  dry  This  fig- 
ure with  civic  robes,  cut  in  stone, 


A  LAST  WISH  89 

was  not  the  man  they  knew  and 
loved.  Within  the  home  were 
other  memorials  more  intimate, 
more  dear,  more  living — a  por- 
trait, a  packet  of  letters,  a  Bible. 
As  the  family  looked  on  such  sa- 
cred possessions,  they  remem- 
bered him  who  had  laboured  for 
them,  had  trained  them  from 
first  years,  had  counselled,  com- 
forted, protected  them.  All  he 
had  done  for  the  big  world  was 
as  nothing  to  what  he  had  done 
for  his  own.  When  they  gath- 
ered round  the  hearth  he  built, 
on  certain  occasions  they  spoke 
of  him  with  gentler  voices,  with 
softened  eyes,  while  the  stran- 
gers pass  on  the  street.  This 
Father  is  Jesus,  and  we  are  His 
children  whom  He  has  loved 
unto  death. 

No  one  in  the  wide  world  Is 
so  miserable  and  destitute  as 
the  man  who  has  never  been 


9O  A   LAST  WISH 

loved.  There  is  no  crime  which 
might  not  be  excused,  which 
might  not  almost  be  forgiven  to 
that  wronged  soul.  We  cannot 
imagine  how  power  and  joy  and 
hope  of  life  are  due  to  love  of 
father,  mother,  wife,  or  child. 
Yet  this  love  has  been  condi- 
tioned and  limited.  There  is 
only  one  love  of  human  experi- 
ence that  has  transcended  time 
and  space  and  sight  which  em- 
braces a  multitude  no  man  can 
number,  and  has  made  for  them, 
born  and  unborn,  far  and  near, 
the  last  sacrifice.  It  was  the 
passionate  conviction  of  Jesus' 
love  for  each  disciple,  for  some 
Scottish  shepherd  as  well  as  for 
St.  John,  that  gave  strength  and 
tenderness  to  faith  in  former 
days  ;  but  it  looks  as  if  this  be- 
lief had  weakened.  Good  Chris- 
tians do  not  now  say  with  fond 
hearts,  '  Whom  Jesus  loved  '  or 


A   LAST   WISH  QI 


'  Who  loved  me  and  gave  Him- 
self for  me.'  Our  religion  has 
become  a  matter  of  the  Creeds, 
or  of  public  service,  or  of  the 
aesthetic  worship,  or  of  vague 
sentiment,  it  has  almost  ceased 
to  be  a  relationship  of  love  be- 
tween two  persons,  Jesus  and 
the  soul,  and  so  Christianity  is 
losing  its  mystical  charm. 

With  those  even  of  the  school 
of  St.  John  and  St.  Paul,  the  re- 
membrance of  Jesus  is  apt  to 
share  the  fate  of  all  our  loves. 
There  are  a  few  fine  souls  who 
love  once  because  they  love  for 
ever,  whose  devotion  is  indepen- 
dent of  sight,  whose  constancy 
deepens  in  absence.  They  have 
their  reward  in  a  delicate  beauty 
of  character,  in  a  rare  spiritual- 
ity of  temper  denied  to  those  of 
crasser  mould.  They  need  no 
sacraments,  their  love  is  an  end- 
less sacrament.  With  most  peo- 


9*  x   ~AST   WISH 

pie,  however,  time  is  only  too 
sure  a  comforter,  and  nothing 
in  life's  tragedy  is  more  sad  than 
the  rapidity  of  our  forgetting. 

It  seemed,  after  our  loss,  as  if 
life  could  never  regain  its  buoy- 
ancy, and  that  we  must  always 
be  haunted  with  a  sense  of  lone- 
liness. But  the  impression 
grows  dim  on  our  world-worn 
heart,  and  would  soon  be  effaced 
were  it  not  for  the  magical  re- 
sources of  memory.  The  dis- 
covery of  a  letter  will  recreate 
the  past  and  awaken  slumbering 
emotions,  and  vindicate  the  om- 
nipotence of  love.  The  supreme 
love  of  our  souls,  the  passion  for 
Jesus,  is  subject  to  such  subtle 
decays,  such  sudden  revivals. 
No  one  has  lived  the  inner  life 
without  seasons  of  early  pas- 
sions when  the  romance  of  Jesus 
has  captured  the  soul,  without 
seasons  of  later  declension  when 


A  LAST  WISH  93 

the  greenery  of  spring1  grew 
grey  in  the  city  dust.  It  is  in 
such  hours  of  coldness  and  weari- 
ness we  ought  to  reinforce  our 
souls  with  the  Sacrament  of  the 
Bread  and  Wine  As  one  makes 
a  journey  to  some  country  kirk- 
yard  where  the  dust  of  his  de- 
parted are  lying,  and  cleanses 
away  the  moss  that  has  filled  up 
the  letters  of  his  mother's  name, 
so  do  we  in  the  Holy  Commu- 
nion again  assure  ourselves  of  a 
love  so  amazing  that  it  passes 
knowledge,  but  so  utterly  Di- 
vine that  it  must  be  true. 


THE   BEQUEST  OF  JESUS 


Peace  I  leave  with  you,  my  peace  I 
give  unto  you  :  not  as  the  world  giveth, 
give  I  unto  you.  Let  not  your  heart  be 
troubled,  neither  let  it  be  afraid. 


I  koow  how  to  live  with  God. 

— MYSTIC 


THE   BEQUEST   OF  JESUS 

IT  is  a  custom  of  human  society 
that  any  one  about  to  depart 
from  this  world  arranges  his  af- 
fairs and  divides  his  goods 
among  those  whom  he  loves  and 
is  to  leave  behind.  He  makes 
his  will,  and  wills  in  this  matter 
have  to  do  with  things  that  can 
be  seen  and  held  in  the  hand. 
Those  that  receive  a  portion 
count  themselves  fortunate, 
those  that  are  passed  over  make 
complaint,  and  many  people 
watch  what  bccometh  of  a  man's 
possessions  when  he  and  they 
are  parted  for  ever.  No  one  is 
released  from  this  last  duty  ex- 
cept he  who  has  nothing,  and, 
therefore,  it  soundeth  like  & 
paradox  to  say  that  Jesus  also 
G 


98      THE   BEQUEST   OF   JESUS 

made  His  will  and  was  careful 
to  bequeath  His  goods  to  His 
friends.  For  was  there  ever 
any  man  poorer  than  Jesus  after 
He  had  finished  His  work  and 
was  ready  to  die  ?  The  cottage 
at  Nazareth  with  its  slender  fur- 
nishing had  long  been  left  :  for 
His  Prophet  labours — His  teach- 
ing, and  His  healing — Jesus  re- 
ceived nothing  ;  His  only  home 
for  the  past  three  years  had  been 
strangers'  houses  or  the  moun- 
tain side  :  pious  women  had 
given  of  their  substance  to  sup- 
port the  little  fellowship  :  a  mir- 
acle had  to  be  wrought  where- 
with to  pay  the  Temple  tax  :  the 
scanty  peasant  garments  Jesus 
wore  would  belong  to  His  exe- 
cutioners. No  man  hath  ever 
lived  or  died  with  fewer  earthly 
goods  than  the  Master. 

It  is  good  for  us  to  remember 
the  condition  of  Jesus  and  the 


THE  BEQUEST  OF  JESUS     99 

will  which  He  made  in  order 
that  we  may  lay  to  heart  that 
there  are  two  kind  of  goods — 
treasures  which  perish  in  the 
using,  and  treasures  which  no 
moth  can  touch.  One  might 
not  have  a  single  piece  of  gold 
or  silver,  and  yet  have  achieved 
a  name  which  carried  with  it 
power,  honour,  glory,  and  this 
he  could  leave  to  his  children. 
Here  then  was  one  possession 
with  which  Jesus  did  endow  His 
family,  and  afterwards  St.  Peter 
and  St.  John  found  that  when 
lilver  and  gold  were  worthless, 
marvellous  deeds  of  mercy  could 
be  done  in  the  name  of  Jesus  of 
Nazareth.  One  may  also  have 
fought  the  battle  of  the  soul  so 
bravely  as  to  have  attained  to 
high  virtues,  and  they  that  fol- 
low after  inherit  his  character. 
So  it  came  to  pass  that  St.  John 
lived  in  such  intimacy  with  Jesus 


tOO  THE   BEQUEST   OF    JESUK 

that  he  caught  His  likeness  and 
the  very  tone  of  His  words.  It 
has  also  happened  that  one  made 
a  great  discovery  in  his  life,  and 
has  confided  it  to  certain  associ- 
ates to  be  their  portion  beyond 
all  riches.  And  our  Master  hav- 
ing found  out  the  deepest  and 
dearest  of  all  secrets — the  way 
of  peace — did  give  it  into  the 
hands  of  His  friends,  and  all  the 
world  were  a  poor  price  to  offer 
for  peace. 

One  can  only  give  to  another 
what  he  has  owned  himself,  and 
as  soon  as  Jesus  makes  His  will 
and  leaves  peace  to  the  Twelve, 
it  comes  to  our  mind  that  He 
has  endowed  them  with  the 
chiefest  good,  and  has  given, 
what  beyond  all  men  that  ever 
lived,  He  Himself  enjoyed.  He 
had  neither  houses  nor  lands. 
One  other  thing  He  did  not 
have,  unrest.  He  had  shame 


THE  BEQUEST   OF  JESUS    IOI 

and  suffering.  One  other  thing 
He  did  have,  rest.  With  evi 
dent  fitness  and  intense  convic- 
tion He  could  face  a  crowd  of 
harassed,  overdriven,  hopeless 
people,  heavy  laden  in  soul  and 
body,  and  offer  them  rest. 
Never  had  any  one  seen  Jesus 
disturbed  in  soul,  save  in  grief 
for  a  friend's  death,  or  in  pity 
for  a  doomed  city,  or  for  some 
other  reason  outside  Himself. 
If  a  multitude  would  make  Him 
a  King,  He  was  not  exalted  ;  if 
they  cried,  '  Crucify  Him,'  He 
was  not  cast  down.  It  mattered 
nothing  to  Him  what  was  said 
of  Him,  or  done  with  Him  ;  and 
through  accumulated  hardships, 
disappointments,  injustices,  cru- 
elties, Jesus  preserved  His  high 
serenity.  Whatever  storms  beat 
on  the  outer  coast  of  His  life, 
His  soul  was  anchored  in  the 
fair  haven  of  Peace. 


IO2   THE   BEQUEST   OF  JESUS 

Certainly  there  was  a  peace 
which  Jesus  did  not  taste  once 
in  His  three  years,  and  which 
He  told  His  disciples  with  much 
frankness  they  were  not  likely 
to  obtain.  If  there  be,  as  in- 
deed there  are,  two  atmospheres 
or  environments  to  which  a  man 
can  adjust  himself,  the  world 
which  is  seen,  and  the  world 
which  is  not  seen  ;  then  there 
be  two  kinds  of  peace,  and  one 
is  harmony  with  the  temporal. 
Suppose  one  should  lay  himself 
out  with  full  intention  to  say 
with  the  multitude  and  to  do  the 
works  they  do,  to  look  always 
on  his  own  things,  and  to  refuse 
all  things  unwelcome  to  flesh 
and  blood,  he  may  escape  much 
bad  weather  like  a  ship  that  will 
not  face  the  open  sea  but  fol- 
lows her  twisting  course  through 
narrow  passages.  Jesus  might 
have  put  Himself  on  good  terms 


THE  BEQUEST  OF  JESUS    IO3 

with  His  world,  which  being 
the  religious,  was  the  most  mer- 
ciless if  offended,  the  most  ap- 
preciative if  satisfied  ;  and  then 
He  would  have  sat  in  the  chief 
seats  of  the  synagogue  and 
would  not  have  been  crucified. 
If  any  one  will  do  his  best  to 
make  himself  agreeable  to  his 
world,  and  not  allow  himself  to 
be  driven  to  extremities  by  his 
conscience,  then  this  world  will 
do  its  part  in  being  agreeable  to 
him.  He  may  not  on  that  ac- 
count escape  inevitable  ills  or 
occasional  reproaches  of  his 
soul  ;  but  he  can  calculate  on 
some  ease  of  life.  This  is  what 
Jesus  means  when  He  refers 
to  the  peace  which  the  world 
gives. 

This  ease  is  not  heart  ease, 
and  what  Jesus  intended  by 
peace  was  not  harmony  with  a 
world  which  passeth  away  but 


IO4  THE   BEQUEST   OF  JESUS 

with  the  Eternal.  Jesus  did  not 
set  Himself  in  wanton  opposition 
to  His  surroundings  —  either 
men  or  circumstances — nor  did 
He  love  to  be  ostracised  and  ill- 
used.  But  it  was  His  belief  that 
the  supreme  part  for  every  man 
was  to  find  out  the  will  of  God, 
the  supreme  endeavour  to  do 
the  work  of  God.  So  soon  as 
the  will  is  plain  then  he  must 
obey  it  at  any  cost,  and  if  this 
obedience  throws  him  out  of 
gear  with  the  world  it  will  bring 
him  into  unison  with  God.  It 
is  better  to  be  at  one  with  the 
spiritual  order  which  remaineth 
than  with  this  vain  show  which 
passeth  away,  for  God  also  hath 
His  rewards  and  comforts.  If 
the  world  called  Jesus  Devil  and 
Samaritan,  God  said  first,  '  My 
beloved  Son,'  and  if  He  was  ar- 
rested as  if  He  were  a  thief,  the 
angels  of  God  waited  on  Him. 


THE   BEQUEST   OF  JESUS 


The  world  had  denied  Him  ease, 
His  life  was  troubled  ;  God  gave 
Him  peace,  His  heart  was  not 
troubled,  neither  was  it  afraid. 
If  we  must  have  thorns  some- 
where, let  us  wear  them  on  the 
brow  rather  than  in  the  heart. 

Within  twelve  hours  the  con- 
trast between  the  peace  of  the 
world  and  the  peace  of  God  was 
to  pass  into  history,  when  Jesus 
stood  before  Pontius  Pilate.  By 
degrading  intrigues  and  unscru- 
pulous services  this  man  had 
come  to  be  Procurator  of  Judaea, 
and  his  one  end  was  to  please  a 
suspicious  emperor  and  retain 
office.  He  had  sailed  a  treach- 
erous sea  with  fair  success,  but 
now  he  knew  not  which  way  to 
turn.  His  Roman  sense  of  jus- 
tice and  some  faint  stirrings  of 
conscience  reinforced  by  his 
wife's  appeal  and  the  counte- 
nance of  the  prisoner  moved 


IO6  THE  BEQUEST  OF  JESUS 

Pilate  to  let  Jesus  free.  The 
fanaticism  of  the  Jews  and  the 
sullen  menace,  '  Thou  are  not 
Caesar's  friend,'  appealed  to  the 
sensitive  imagination  of  a  selfish 
man  Between  his  higher  and 
lower  selves  he  was  at  his  wits 
end.  '  Knowest  Thou  not  that 
I  have  power  ?  '  he  said  to  Jesus 
with  unconscious  irony.  What 
power  had  he  who  dare  not  obey 
his  conscience  ?  What  peace 
had  he  who  trembled  behind  his 
guards  ? 

It  was  the  Man  before  Pilate, 
dejected,  insulted,  bound,  who 
alone  had  power  as  He  was  also 
clothed  with  pure  Majesty. 
Amid  the  confusion  of  the  gar- 
den, He  secured  the  safety  of 
His  disciples  although  He  would 
lift  no  hand  for  His  own  deliv- 
ering. Helpless  and  lonely  He 
pitied  His  judge  in  the  straits  of 
his  cowardice  and  offered  what 


THE  BEQUEST   OF  JESUS    IO? 

excuse  could  be  found  for  Pilate. 
On  the  sorrowful  way,  and  from 
beneath  the  burden  of  the  Cross, 
He  spoke  kindly  to  the  daugh- 
ters of  Jerusalem.  Upon  the 
Cross,  when  His  own  life  was 
ebbing  away,  He  gave  everlast- 
ing life  to  a  dying  penitent. 
Why  should  He  be  disturbed  or 
dismayed  ?  No  doubt  it  was  a 
strange  and  dark  providence  that 
His  life  should  end  in  Geth- 
semane  and  Calvary.  What  had 
He  done  to  merit  a  Cross  ?  He 
had  tasted  doubt  and  fear,  but 
the  conflict  was  now  over  and 
He  saw  the  blue  through  the  rift 
in  the  cloud.  Everything  was 
the  will  of  God,  and  when  Jesus 
said,  '  Thy  will  be  done,'  His 
soul  was  at  rest.  If  the  Cross 
be  the  Divine  Will  it  was  a  per- 
fect and  beautiful  will.  The 
power  was  with  Jesus  which 
nothing  could  dismay.  If  it 


IO8   THE   BEQUEST   OF  JESUS 

were  for  the  greater  good  He 
had  sat  on  Pilate's  judgment 
seat  :  as  it  was  He  would  hang 
upon  the  Cross.  God  did  ever 
what  was  best,  and  so  the  peace 
of  God  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing garrisoned  His  heart. 

Some  people  are  apt  to  belittle 
the  peace  of  Jesus  because  they 
have  peace  of  life.  They  have 
had  no  bitter  disappointments, 
no  cruel  wrestles,  no  crushing 
afflictions,  no  fiery  afflictions. 
The  world  has  dealt  kindly  by 
them  and  they  have  fitted  into 
their  environments.  Moments 
there  are  when  the  sailors  of  the 
deep  envy  those  that  sail  in  the 
smooth  sheltered  waters  because 
they  have  not  been  driven  to 
and  fro  on  stormy  seas  and  been 
*;n  danger  of  the  turgid  swells. 
Other  moments  the  sons  of  trib- 
ulation pity  those  unfortunates 
who  have  never  seen  the  great 


THE   BEQUEST   OF  JESUS    109 

billows  lie  down  as  a  dog  chid- 
den by  his  master  and  God  turn 
the  storm  into  a  calm.  One 
half  of  the  Bible  is  a  closed  book 
to  them  that  sit  at  ease,  because 
only  a  pierced  hand  can  open 
the  pages.  The  promises  are 
for  them  whose  hearts  are  sore  : 
the  invitations  are  to  them  who 
hunger.  Jesus'  peace  was  the 
best  of  all  gifts  to  that  handful 
of  broken  men  in  the  Upper 
Room,  whose  first  step  would 
be  into  the  darkness,  but  it  may 
not  seem  any  great  thing  to  the 
favourites  of  this  world.  Yet  it 
is  not  wise  for  any  one  to  make 
too  much  of  an  outward  peace, 
dependent  on  health  of  body, 
and  the  goods  that  are  kept  in 
barns  and  the  suffrages  of  the 
multitude,  which  to-day  cries 
'  Hosanna,'  and  to-morrow '  Cru- 
cify,' and  on  the  whims  of  fickle, 
selfish  people  Let  a  man  be  as 


110  THE   BEQUEST   OF  JESUS 

far-seeing,  accommodating,  po- 
litic, unscrupulous  as  may  be,  he 
cannot  hope  always  to  escape 
disaster,  for  this  peace  is  as  un- 
certain as  the  lovely  Mediterra- 
nean. One  day  you  look  out 
through  the  motionless  foliage 
on  a  still  expanse  of  blue,  and 
next  morning  the  orange  blos- 
som is  strewn  upon  the  ground 
and  the  spray  is  dashing  on  your 
garden  wall.  '  As  the  world 
giveth.' 

Other  people  have  lost  heart 
to  believe  in  the  peace  of  Jesus 
because  they  have  never  tasted 
peace  of  life.  Circumstances 
seem  to  have  conspired  against 
them,  so  that  they  never  built 
some  lowly  house  of  comfort  but 
it  was  wrecked  and  their  soul 
left  desolate.  They  may  be 
pardoned  for  not  always  remem- 
bering that  Providence  is  strong- 
er than  circumstances.  The 


/HE   BEQUEST   OF  JESUS    III 

will  of  God  stands,  works,  con- 
quers, blesses.  If  we  had  our 
way  most  of  us  would  choose  a 
new  set  of  circumstances  and 
would  afterwards  repent  bitter- 
ly. God  doeth  better  for  His 
sons,  disarming  and  illuminating 
the  things  which  were  against 
us  so  that  they  become  our  pro- 
tection— the  storm  on  the  sur- 
face hiding  the  eternal  calm  be- 
low. f 

The  presence  of  Jesus  shed 
peace  on  His  disciples  and  laid 
to  rest  their  nervous  anxieties 
as  well  as  their  just  fears,  and 
the  wisdom  of  His  followers  on 
every  vexing  day  is  to  retire  into 
His  fellowship.  Within  a  few 
yards  of  a  street  in  our  Babylon, 
which  sounds  all  day  long  with 
the  tramp  of  feet  and  the  mixed 
noises  of  a  great  city's  traffic,  is 
hidden  away  an  ancient  church. 
As  one  turns  aside  and  makes 


112   THE   BEQUEST   OF  JESUS 

his  way  to  its  place  the  babel 
dies  into  a  murmur,  and  when 
he  has  entered  in  and  closed  the 
door  not  a  sound  is  heard  to  dis- 
tract the  soul,  and  the  light  falls 
on  the  kneeling  figure  from  the 
faces  of  saints  who  have  over- 
come the  world  and  are  for  ever 
in  peace.  So  in  the  midst  of 
this  great  commotion  abideth 
the  will  of  God,  strong  and  ten- 
der, and  he  that  hideth  himself 
therein  remembereth  no  longer 
the  turmoil  of  life,  because,  with 
Jesus  and  an  innumerable  com- 
pany of  faithful  men,  he  has 
made  his  refuge  in  the  secret 
place  of  God. 


THE   LORD'S   TRYSTE 


In  My  Father's  house  are  many  man- 
sions :  if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have 
told  you. 

I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you.  And 
if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  will 
come  again,  and  receive  you  unto  myself. 


He  said  he  was  going  to  that  country 
he  had  all  his  life  wished  to  see  .  .  .  just 
before  he  died,  his  countenance  became 
fair,  his  eyes  brightened,  and  he  burst 
out  into  singing  of  the  things  he  saw  in 
heaven. — Life  of  £lak*. 


THE  LORD'S  TRYSTE 

IT  were  not  wholesome  that  one 
should  think  overmuch  about 
the  world  to  come,  because  in 
that  case  he  might  be  isolated 
and  fail  to  do  the  will  of  God  in 
this  present  world,  and  there- 
fore Jesus,  who  ever  lived  in  the 
secret  place  of  God,  said  little 
about  the  Kingdom  in  its  glory, 
and  rather  insisted  on  that  King- 
dom in  its  travail.  Yet  there 
are  hours  when  the  unseen 
presses  on  the  soul,  and  we  must 
needs  speak  of  what  is  within 
the  veil,  and  so  it  was  most  hu- 
man that  before  they  parted  for 
the  '  little  while,'  Jesus  should 
break  silence  with  His  friends 
about  the  other  side.  As  a  fa- 


Il6        THE   LORD'S   TRYSTE 

_    ^ 

ther  who  is  leaving  his  children 
and  crossing  the  vast  ocean  in 
order  that  he  may  make  another 
home  in  the  wider  space  of  the 
new  world,  so  did  this  Father  of 
a  very  dependent  family  assure 
them  concerning  that  unknown 
place  into  which  He  was  soon  to 
disappear.  He  was  very  faith- 
ful, and  took  good  care  that  His 
followers  should  not  be  left  as 
orphans,  for  He  bequeathed  His 
peace  to  be  their  support,  and 
promised  to  send  them  a  Friend 
acquainted  with  His  mind  to  be 
their  guide,  and  now  He  pledged 
His  word  that  as  soon  as  the 
place  beyond  was  ready  for 
them,  and  they  for  it,  He  would 
Himself  return  and  fetch  them 
home. 

My  Father's  house  is  a  word 
that  ever  fell  from  Jesus'  lips 
with  a  pleasant  and  caressing 
sound,  and  now  it  seemed  to 


THE    LORD'S   TRYSTE        1 1/ 

come  to  perfection  like  a  bud 
bursting  into  flower.  Accord- 
ing to  ancient  Hebrew  tradition 
the  Eternal  had  shown  His  glory 
in  the  Tent  of  the  Wilderness, 
and  used  to  dwell  where  the 
golden  angels  bent  over  the  ark. 
Kings  desired  to  build  a  habita- 
tion for  God,  who  dwelleth  not 
in  houses  made  by  hands,  and 
at  last  in  the  imagination  of  faith 
the  Divine  Presence  settled  in 
the  Temple  of  Jerusalem.  Saints 
supported  their  piety  with  its 
visible  symbols,  and  exiles  in 
the  homesickness  of  the  soul 
turned  their  faces  to  the  House 
of  God.  Here,  as  the  nearest 
spot  to  Heaven,  Simeon  waited 
for  the  consolation  of  Israel ; 
here  the  young  Child  Jesus  was 
presented  to  the  Lord  with  a 
pair  of  turtle  doves  by  His  Vir- 
gin Mother.  It  was  the  Temple 
that  Jesus,  in  a  fine  heat,  cleansed 


n8     THE  LORD'S  TRYSTE 

from  filthy  lucre,  and  the  same 
Temple  He  declared  to  be  the 
mystical  symbol  of  His  Body. 
Jesus  was  indeed,  in  His  Holy 
Incarnation,  the  Shrine  of  God, 
where  God  met  men,  and  they 
saw  God,  and  now  when  He 
passed  into  the  unseen,  the  other 
world  would  become  the  House 
of  God,  our  '  Father's  House.' 

Perhaps  there  may  have  been 
also  a  nearer  and  tenderer  sug- 
gestion in  this  fine  word,  and 
Jesus  was  thinking  of  the  Upper 
Room.  He  and  the  Apostles 
were  gathered  together  in  close 
fellowship,  with  the  Bread  and 
Wine  before  them,  and  the  kind- 
ly light  on  their  faces.  Outside 
was  darkness,  which  hung  over 
and  enswathed  the  goodman's 
house,  full  of  distant  sounds,  un- 
known dangers,  unseen  people. 
Within  the  Room,  after  Judas 
passed  out,  was  rest,  confidence, 


THE  LORD'S   TRYSTE       119 

love.  Jesus  and  His  friends 
were  at  home.  So  much  had 
one  good  man  been  able  to  do 
for  the  men  he  loved  in  this  hos- 
tile Jerusalem.  What  could  not 
God  do  for  His  Son  and  His 
Son's  friends  in  the  mysterious 
other  world  with  its  strange  cir- 
cumstances and  imagined  perils  ? 
One  little  circle  of  light  created 
by  human  love,  one  greater  cir- 
cle yonder  created  by  Divine 
love.  St.  John  had  been  con- 
tent to  live  for  ever  in  that  poor 
Room  of  earth,  and  so  had  they 
all  for  the  peace  that  had  fallen 
upon  them,  wherefore  let  them 
consider  how  much  better  than 
it  hath  entered  into  the  heart 
must  it  be  where  there  are 
many  mansions — in  the  Father's 
House. 

Jesus,  who  had  stated  many 
of  the  deep  things  of  the  spirit- 
ual world  in  the  terms  of  our 


I3O      THE   LORD'S   TRYSTE 

common  life,  now  declares  Heav- 
en to  be  another  name  for  home, 
and  so  makes  a  winsome  appeal 
to  the  heart.  This  word  is  in 
deed  like  unto  an  alabaster  box 
of  ointment  very  precious, 
whose  fragrance  fills  the  life. 
Into  it  has  been  gathered  our 
most  sacred  memories,  our  ten- 
derest  associations,  our  bright- 
est hopes.  It  matters  little 
whether  the  home  of  one's  child- 
hood has  been  a  cottage  on  a 
hillside  or  a  house  in  some  city 
street,  round  it  is  woven  a  ro- 
mance of  interest  that  grows 
with  the  years,  to  it  travels  back 
the  heart  from  distant  places 
alike  of  work  and  thought  with 
wistful  regret  As  the  years 
come  and  go  we  see  our  home 
through  a  golden  mist,  wherein 
all  things  are  beautiful  and  per- 
fect, and  so  there  is  no  home 
that  is  not  a  prophecy.  As 


THE   LORD'S  TRYSTE       121 

Jesus  Himself  was  the  Son  of 
Man,  that  perfect  Antitype  after 
which  in  all  ages  men's  minds 
have  gone  forth,  so  must  that 
place  from  which  He  came  be — 
above  all  we  have  dreamed — 
Home. 

It  was  like  Jesus  that  He  does 
not  offer  any  proof  of  Heaven, 
and  for  the  same  reason  that  our 
Master  does  not  affirm  the  exist- 
ence of  God.  The  men  of  that 
generation  might  be  narrow  to 
a  degree  in  their  religious  no- 
tions and  very  blind  to  spiritual 
excellence,  but  they  clung  to 
the  hope  of  another  world,  from 
the  highest  unto  the  lowest,  so 
that  the  Pharisees  who  did  not 
rest  till  Jesus  was  silenced  con- 
tended fiercely  for  the  resurrec- 
tion and  a  dying  malefactor  had 
some  faint  idea  of  Paradise. 
Had  this  been  only  the  pathetic 
dream  of  a  religious  people, 


122       THE   LORD'S   TRYSTE 

whose  immense  sufferings  had 
projected  the  days  of  the  Mes- 
siah into  the  unseen,  and  sought 
in  the  imagination  of  anothe* 
world,  like  unto  St.  John's 
Heavenly  Jerusalem,  the  com- 
pensation for  the  sorrows  of 
this,  Jesus  would  have  been  very 
faithful.  His  silence  is  consent. 
Among  all  prophets  who  have 
spoken  of  the  deep  things  of  the 
soul  none  of  any  time  or  land  is 
for  a  moment  to  be  compared 
with  Jesus.  His  is  the  last  word 
on  God,  on  the  soul,  on  life,  on 
the  unseen.  He  ever  told  His 
disciples  the  truth,  and  when 
He  left  them  with  the  eternal 
hope,  He  confirmed  it.  These 
are  beliefs  that  have  now  to  be 
proved  if  they  be  true,  but  dis- 
proved if  they  be  untrue — and 
one  is  our  Father's  House. 

Jesus  rather  gave  Himself  to 
comfort    His    disciples   on   two 


THE   LORD  S   TRYSTE       123 

matters  that  weigh  upon  the 
mind  as  we  think  in  quiet  mo- 
ments of  that  world  from  which 
no  messages  come,  into  which 
we  must  soon  all  pass.  It  is 
very  pleasant  at  a  time  to  call 
Heaven  home,  our  long  last 
home,  but  as  often  as  our 
thoughts  play  round  the  sub- 
ject, we  are  chilled  by  the  vast- 
ness  and  unknownness  of  the  fu- 
ture life.  Will  it  not  be  a  cheer- 
less change  to  be  torn  from  this 
home  of  ours,  some  poor  cottage 
on  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  and  cast 
on  the  other  side,  amid  unfa- 
miliar scenes,  unknown  faces, 
strange  duties.  If  this  secret 
misgiving  had  passed  through 
the  minds  of  the  Twelve — and  it 
may  be  that  Jesus  had  seen  its 
signs  in  their  faces — He  set  Him- 
self to  take  it  away  with  all  the 
cunning  skill  of  love.  He  was 
going  before  not  only  to  secure 


124        THE   LORD'S   TRYSTE 

His  friends  right  of  entrance 
and  a  welcome  in  the  Father's 
House,  but  also  to  prepare  for 
them  a  place.  None  knew  them 
more  intimately — their  friends, 
their  ways,  their  character,  their 
circumstances.  If  any  one  could 
make  Heaven  homelike  for  St. 
John  and  St.  Peter,  for  Martha 
and  Mary,  for  the  '  goodman  of 
the  house'  it  would  be  Jesus. 
As  a  mother,  who  expects  her 
son  from  foreign  parts,  would 
arrange  his  room  to  remind  him 
of  his  boyhood,  gathering  into 
it  the  things  he  loved  and  the 
treasures  he  sent  on  before  him, 
so  will  the  Master  reconstruct 
our  life  beyond  doubt  of  kindly 
circumstances  that  shall  fit  into 
our  character  and  work,  with 
this  difference  that  the  scale 
shall  be  of  Heaven  ;  and  place 
us  once  more  among  those  we 
loved  and  lost  for  a  while  with 


THE   LORD'S   TRYSTE       12$ 

only  this  difference  that  we  shall 
not  then  see  through  a  glass 
darkly,  but  face  to  face. 

Jesus  also  removeth  for  ever 
another  disquiet  of  the  soul 
when  He  promises  to  come  for 
His  friends.  Surely  there  must 
be  few  persons  who  do  not  think 
of  death  with  awe,  and  any  one 
would  be  cursed  with  a  hope- 
less frivolity  who  could  antici- 
pate the  great  change  with  care- 
lessness. Many  persons,  not 
otherwise  cowardly  or  unbeliev- 
ing, regard  the  end  of  this  life 
with  terror,  and  pass  their  days 
in  bondage.  It  is  an  immense 
adventure  to  throw  off  this  body 
as  one  slips  off  his  clothes,  and 
plunge  into  the  unseen.  One 
may  believe  in  the  city  of  light 
beyond  and  in  the  welcome  of 
Jesus  and  yet  have  some  natural 
fear  of  the  passage.  Its  dark- 
ness, its  loneliness,  its  strange- 


126       THE   LORD'S   TRYSTE 

ness  appall  his  imagination,  and 
it  will  be  the  greatest  trial  of 
life  to  bid  faithful  friends  and 
familiar  scenes  farewell.  How 
altogether  timely  is  the  promise 
of  Jesus  that  in  that  hour  we 
shall  not  be  alone,  nor  even  that 
angels  shall  attend  us  visibly 
who  all  our  life  have  guarded 
us,  but  that  the  Divine  Presence 
Itself  will  await  and  convey  us. 
In  various  places  and  on  many 
occasions  does  Jesus  pledge  us 
to  meet  Him  in  this  life — at  the 
Cross,  in  the  Sacrament,  in  the 
crises  of  joy  and  sorrow — and 
now  once  again  He  appoints  us 
a  meeting-place.  It  is  the  Val- 
ley of  the  Shadow  where,  in  the 
quietness  and  seclusion  as  in  a 
lover's  glade,  He  will  expect  us 
one  day.  Is  there  any  spot  on 
earth  so  common  or  so  wild  that 
it  has  not  been  transformed  by 
love  ?  Are  there  any  places  in 


THE   LORD'S   TRYSTE       I2/ 

our  thought  so  beautiful  as  those 
where  we  kept  tryste  with  those 
that  were  dearer  than  life.  So 
Jesus,  who  hath  such  power  of 
regeneration  that  He  changed 
the  accursed  tree  into  the  Cross, 
and  made  chief  sinners  into 
saints,  hath  put  a  fair  face  on 
death  so  that  it  becometh  but 
His  dark  disguise  as  He  return- 
eth  to  receive  us  home. 

For  one  and  all  those  faJthful 
men  He  did  as  seemed  to  Him 
best.  The  first  to  see  the  Mas- 
ter on  the  other  side  was  St. 
James ;  and  if  we  questioned 
him  he  would  doubtless  declare 
that  he  was  not  able  to  distin- 
guish the  flash  of  the  soldier's 
sword  from  the  sheen  of  Jesus' 
garments.  The  last  for  whom 
Jesus  came  was  His  friend,  and 
one  can  plainly  see  that  St.  John 
was  growing  lonely  in  his  old 
age  and  wearying  for  the  Lord, 


128       THE  LORD'S  TRYSTE 

wondering  when  word  should 
come  that  Jesus  could  not  any 
longer  be  content  without  him. 
'  Come  quickly,  Lord  Jesus,'  he 
cried,  full  of  homesickness  ;  and 
at  last  the  Master  came  accord- 
ing to  His  word.  Many  years 
had  come  and  gone  since  St. 
John  went  out  with  Jesus  to 
Gethsemane,  but  his  suffering, 
his  separation,  his  sorrows, 
would  seem  like  a  dream  when 
the  two  friends  came  once  more 
and  for  ever  into  the  '  Upper 
Room.' 


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305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Bo 
LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095- 

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